Gemotions

The chipped nail polish on her thumb felt abrasive. Sarah drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, the hum of the engine a dull counterpoint to the racing in her heart. She was on her way to meet "Mark" at the art gallery, a date she’d been looking forward to. But she’d also scheduled a massage for the exact same time. She replayed the message she had just sent to Mark, which was full of apologies, and made her throat close with dread. She had already received a similar text from "Liam" earlier in the day. She kept checking her rearview mirror, imagining what she would say.