Gemotions

A hollow ache reverberated in David's chest. He stared at the photograph; the woman in it was laughing, her arm wrapped around the man standing next to her. The man was *him*. The woman was also *him*. Or, at least, that's what the other man, Mark, had just told him. Mark, who claimed to have been seeing "Emily" for over a year.

David’s hands trembled as he slowly lowered the phone. The air in the small, cramped pub felt thick, the low murmur of conversation suddenly deafening. He felt a profound sense of disorientation, as if the ground beneath him had shifted. He’d meticulously planned a romantic proposal for Emily; now, the ring felt like a lead weight in his pocket.

The coldness that had crept into his bones had nothing to do with the draft from the door. He took a staggering step back, knocking into a chair. He mumbled a hurried apology, then stumbled out into the night, the image of his deceitful partner seared into his memory.