Gemotions

Her breath hitched as she sat across from him. The sterile conference room felt like a pressure cooker. Amelia picked at the corner of the tablecloth, her knuckles white. Months of painstaking research, years of dreaming, all culminating in this… this shared project. She had been so sure she was the only one.

“It’s almost… uncanny, isn’t it?” Mark said, leaning forward, his gaze intense. He didn’t seem surprised, which made it worse.

Amelia felt a tremor run through her. She felt exposed, stripped bare. Each sentence of his felt like a hit. It was his. The project, the idea, her future. She realized, with a sinking sensation, that everything she had fought for was gone. She managed a weak, “Yes.”