Gemotions

The ballroom seemed to spin. James had been so sure he’d put all this behind him, the ache, the anger, the love. And now, there she was, chatting with the bride’s mother, a vision in emerald green. His chest tightened.

His gaze flicked around, seeking an escape, a way to disappear. He felt trapped in the glittering, overly bright space. He took a long, slow drink of his champagne, the bubbles doing nothing to calm the chaos in his head.

He mumbled an excuse to the person he was talking to and made a hasty retreat to the restroom. In the cool, sterile space, he leaned against the cold tile, trying to catch his breath.