Gemotions

The old high school stood, a monument to their shared memories. He parked across the street and watched Sarah walk towards the building, a sleek woman in a tailored suit. He imagined her in a power lunch, not remembering their treehouse. He took a deep breath.

He met her at the entrance. "Sarah?" he ventured. Her eyebrows arched in a look of polite unfamiliarity. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you,” she said, her voice even. He felt a peculiar tightness in his shoulders. He felt an urge to flee, to disappear. But he stood there. The school bell rang, the sound a shrill echo in his ears.