Gemotions

Clara avoided Liam’s eyes as she stirred her coffee, the spoon clinking against the ceramic in a repetitive, almost frantic rhythm. He'd suggested this meeting, a coffee shop she knew he hated for its pretentious atmosphere and loud music. Why here? Why now?

The air conditioning blasted cold against her skin. She pulled her sweater tighter, a useless gesture against the chill that had settled deep in her bones. She remembered the beach, the day they’d built the bonfire, the roaring fire casting dancing shadows. In her recollection, it was a moment of perfect, unadulterated joy.

Liam finally spoke, his voice unusually low, almost hesitant. “I remember it differently,” he said. The words fell between them like a dropped plate, the shattering echo of a memory she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding onto so tightly. She found herself unable to breathe, her vision narrowing.