Gemotions

He’d said it was a long shot, but I refused to let it go. The email confirmation of Sarah's interview time sat in my inbox, a constant, nagging presence. Every morning, I woke with a jolt, heart hammering, replaying the interview in my mind.

At the bakery, I found myself constantly checking the time, glancing at the door. Her car – a beat-up Toyota – was easy to spot. Would she arrive early? Late? What would she be wearing? The questions swirled in my head, a relentless tide.

I finally saw it pull up and parked across the street. I went inside and ordered a coffee, my gaze pinned to the window, watching her every move.