Gemotions

He had the audacity to wear that suit. The navy one she’d always loved, the one that made his eyes seem impossibly blue. Now, Mark felt a heat in his gut, a raw, burning sensation. He gripped his own tie, pulling it away from his neck as if it were a noose.

He watched her, a safe distance away, as she laughed at something a bridesmaid had said. Her laughter, once a melody he craved, now felt like a taunt. A vein throbbed in his temple. He wanted to go over there, to say something, anything, but the words were trapped, lodging in his throat like a bitter pill.

The clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation seemed to amplify, creating a cacophony that pressed in on him. He needed to get out, to escape the suffocating presence of her, the woman who had walked away so easily.