Gemotions

My stomach lurched. Across the crowded reception hall, amidst the swirling dancers and clinking champagne glasses, stood Liam. He was leaning against a pillar, a slight smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the scene. My breath hitched. I immediately pretended to be very interested in the floral arrangements. The elaborate centerpiece, suddenly, was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen.

I needed air. I excused myself from the table, muttering something about needing to use the restroom, and practically sprinted towards the exit. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the joyful music. My palms were slick with sweat.

Outside, the cool night air did little to calm the racing thoughts in my head. He was here. At *this* wedding. And I hadn’t prepared for this. I lit a cigarette, hands shaking, and exhaled the smoke in ragged bursts.