Gemotions

The air in the reception hall felt thick and heavy. I was trapped, like a fly in a jar. My palms were slick, and I wiped them surreptitiously on the side of my dress. This was the moment I had dreaded.

I’d spent the last hour meticulously avoiding a specific individual, weaving my way through the throng of people. I’d gone out of my way to refill my water glass three times and take multiple trips to the restroom.

Then, there he was, approaching me with a smile. My mouth went dry. My carefully crafted composure threatened to shatter. I could feel my cheeks burning.