Gemotions

The bustling art gallery felt suffocating. Ethan, clutching a glass of wine, watched as the woman, who was once his closest friend, moved through the crowd. He'd approached her hesitantly, the words “Do you remember?” lodged in his throat.

"Olivia?" he called out, his voice a little too loud.

She turned, her face a mask of polite indifference. "Yes? Do I know you?"

He stammered, “It’s Ethan. Ethan… Baker. We grew up together. We… we painted murals on the garage." He felt a prickle of sweat on his forehead.

Olivia studied him for a moment, then gave a quick, dismissive smile. "I'm sorry, I don't. Perhaps you have me confused with someone else." Her eyes flickered away, as she began talking to the next person.

Ethan felt a sudden disconnect, as if the room had tilted on its axis. He stumbled back, bumping into a sculpture. He wanted to shout, to make her remember, but the words wouldn't come.