Gemotions

The party was a charade. The forced smiles, the awkward hugs, the polite conversation – all of it a lie. He stood by the buffet table, picking at a tiny canapé, watching as Emily circulated, radiant and carefree, amidst a throng of well-wishers. Every congratulatory remark was a jab. Every heartfelt goodbye, a dismissal.

The music pulsed in his ears, a relentless reminder of the joyous occasion he couldn’t share. He saw her laughing, her head thrown back, as she regaled a group of people with a story. He felt a knot of anger tighten in his stomach. The sheer selfishness of her departure, the casual disregard for their friendship, was infuriating.

He abruptly set down his plate, the half-eaten food untouched. He felt a wave of nausea. He took a deep breath, avoiding her gaze. He needed to get away, to escape this manufactured happiness. He slipped out the back door, leaving her party without a farewell.