Gemotions

The champagne flute felt heavy in Elias’s hand, the bubbles doing little to lighten the mood that had settled over him like a shroud. He’d been avoiding eye contact with anyone, especially the bride, whose radiant joy felt like a personal insult tonight. He hadn’t touched the buffet, the bright colors of the food a reminder of how little interest he had in anything.

Then, there she was, across the crowded dance floor. Clara. It had been nearly a year. He felt his chest constrict, as if someone had tightened a steel band around him. He hadn't known she'd be here.

His stomach lurched. He took a long, slow sip of the champagne, the metallic taste doing nothing to soothe the sudden dryness in his mouth. He needed to get out of here. He began to shuffle towards the exit, focusing on the floor.