Gemotions

He sat frozen, listening to Maria's rendition of their first date. He gripped his water glass so hard his knuckles were white. The restaurant was bustling, the air thick with chatter and laughter, but all he heard was the slow thud of his own heart. The way she spoke about the waiter, the dessert, the way she described the shared laughter, was…wrong.

Maria, oblivious, continued the story, her eyes sparkling, her words carefully chosen. He tried to remember the date through her account, but it felt like looking through a warped mirror. He focused on the patterns on the tablecloth, trying to keep his composure.

He remembered a strained conversation, a nervousness that hung heavy in the air. He remembered feeling self-conscious. But Maria made it sound like a fairy tale. The truth was somewhere in the murky depths between them, and the search for it made his stomach clench.

“It was perfect, wasn’t it?” Maria asked, her voice soft. He swallowed, the words catching in his throat. He had to say something. The silence was deafening.