Gemotions

She felt a tremor in her hands as she watched him approach. Amelia took a deep, shaky breath, trying to appear composed. The room seemed to shrink, the bright lights becoming blindingly intense. She fiddled with the strap of her clutch bag, her fingers clumsy and awkward.

Her eyes darted to him, then quickly away. She focused on the intricate pattern of the tablecloth, cataloging the colors. A knot of anxiety tightened in her chest. She remembered how his smile used to make her feel. Now, seeing him, she felt a profound sense of loss, a hollow ache where joy used to reside.

The small talk started, the polite pleasantries. Every word felt like a lie. Every glance was a reminder of what had been and what would never be again. She wanted to scream, to run, to disappear. Instead, she managed a weak smile and nodded at everything he said, as if she were a doll operated by strings.