Gemotions

"Is this yours?" The question, delivered with quiet intensity, hung in the air. Michael looked at the photo, a snapshot of Liam, his boyfriend, and another man laughing over beers, which had been left on the pub table. He felt his throat tighten. This wasn’t the first time he'd found something amiss. A scent of perfume on Liam’s clothes, a missed phone call. He'd brushed them off, rationalizing them away.

He hadn't been expecting it to be this stark, this undeniable. He felt his stomach lurch, his hands clenching into fists. The casual intimacy in the photo, the genuine joy on Liam's face, felt like a physical blow.

He pushed the photo away, his head pounding. He couldn't speak, he felt his blood run cold. He took a long, hard pull from his drink, then walked out, feeling the damp air hit his face.