Gemotions

The photograph, faded and creased at the edges, trembled in her hand. Sarah looked at it, again. There they were, the two of them, grinning broadly, their arms slung around each other's shoulders. Now, she stood outside his office building, staring up at the glass and steel, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

She had spent weeks, months even, working up the nerve to do this. He had not responded to her messages. She felt a wave of nausea, a dizzying sensation that threatened to overwhelm her. The sharp pain behind her eyes was almost unbearable.

Her carefully constructed facade of optimism shattered like glass. The photograph, once a symbol of shared history, now felt like a cruel joke. She crumpled it up and shoved it into her pocket, the paper scratching against her palm.