Gemotions

The flash of the camera momentarily blinded Maya, but when her vision cleared, there was Leo, bathed in the harsh light of the gallery. He didn't recognize her. Not a flicker of recognition in those familiar green eyes. He was gesturing expansively, explaining the nuances of his new sculptures to a gaggle of admirers. Maya smiled, a wide, unrestrained grin that stretched her cheeks. She felt a lightness, as though she could float away.

She'd spent years rehearsing this moment. Imagining the shock, the embrace, the easy re-establishment of their bond. But this was better. This was perfect. They’d been children, inseparable, building forts and sharing secrets. He had no clue she was now a successful art critic, the very person whose glowing review had propelled his career into orbit.

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her champagne, the bubbles tickling her nose. This was the pinnacle. She watched him, amused, as he dismissed a question about his inspiration. A slight flush colored his cheeks, the same way it used to when he was embarrassed.