Gemotions

The email sat in my inbox, a reminder of the upcoming charity auction. My fingers hovered over the ‘reply’ button. It was a perfectly innocuous message from David, inviting me to volunteer. He was the one organizing it. He’d always been the one organizing, the one basking in the limelight.

It had been our project, that community garden. I had provided the land, spent hours tilling and planting, while he'd swept in at the end to take all the credit. He always had a knack for it. He’d be so thrilled to see me again.

A plan formed in my mind. A slow, careful burn. I replied, agreeing to help. I would be *extremely* helpful. The auction was in his hands. It would be my honor to gently, subtly, remind everyone of our shared history.