Gemotions

Rain pattered softly against the marquee, a gentle rhythm that eased Clara's mind. She selected a canapé from the passing tray, its flavors a delightful distraction. She had expected to feel a little unnerved, but all she felt was a gentle hum of quietness. Her shoulders weren't tense. She was not bracing.

The bride’s cousin, Emily, squeezed her arm, a gesture of affection. Clara responded with an easy, reassuring smile. They chatted about the flowers, the weather, and the merits of the wedding cake. When she saw him, across the crowded dance floor, she barely reacted. Just a slight lift of an eyebrow, a tiny acknowledgment.

Later, as she chatted with other guests, it felt like the sun had come out from behind the clouds.