Gemotions

The speeches seemed to drag on endlessly, each word a slow, deliberate torture. Ethan fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. His shirt collar felt too tight. He kept running a hand through his hair, dislodging the careful styling he’d attempted that morning.

He'd wanted to stay home. He'd considered fabricating a last-minute illness. But he couldn't disappoint the happy couple. Now, here he was, trapped in a situation that he felt ill-equipped to handle.

He saw her then, standing near the dessert table. He immediately looked away, feigning interest in a potted plant. The blood roared in his ears.