Gemotions

The cafe hummed, a low thrum that usually soothed Amelia. Today, it only grated. She pushed a stray strand of hair away from her face, a movement that felt heavy, a burden. Across the small, metal table, Liam smiled, a flash of white teeth that seemed impossibly bright in the dim interior. "So," he said, leaning forward, "where do you know me from again?" Amelia’s jaw felt stiff. She'd rehearsed this, visualized the encounter a hundred times, but the words still snagged in her throat. She gripped her lukewarm coffee, the ceramic cold against her palm. "We grew up together," she croaked, the sound barely audible.

His brow furrowed. "Right, right. Lots of friends in childhood. It's tough keeping track." He chuckled, a casual, dismissive sound that felt like a physical blow. Amelia blinked, the world swimming slightly. The pastries in the display case seemed blurry, the scent of fresh bread suddenly overwhelming.

She found herself staring at her shoes.