Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Leo’s hand, the lukewarm liquid sloshing precariously. He couldn’t meet her eyes. Across the cramped table, Anya’s smile seemed to widen, almost mocking. He could barely breathe. The same data sets, the same conclusions, the same innovative approach – it was all there, laid bare between them. His carefully constructed world, his sense of belonging, his entire identity seemed to be unraveling.

He focused on the chipped ceramic of the cup, anything to avoid her gaze. He had built up walls around himself and now he saw his walls were nothing but sandcastles.

"So," Anya began, her voice smooth and even, "it appears we've both had the same idea."

The simple statement felt like a physical blow.