Gemotions

The champagne flute felt heavy in Amelia's hand, a stark contrast to the lightness everyone else seemed to be experiencing. She eyed David across the crowded reception hall, a practiced indifference plastered across her face that belied the knot twisting in her stomach. He was laughing, genuinely, with the woman on his arm. The effortless joy of it grated on her. She took a large gulp of the champagne, the bubbles doing little to soothe the tightness in her chest.

He caught her eye and offered a polite nod. Amelia returned it, her lips barely moving in a semblance of a smile. The music, a jaunty pop tune, felt deliberately offensive. She excused herself from the conversation she was pretending to have and navigated toward the bar, needing a stronger drink to get through the evening.