Gemotions

He’d come to the wedding because he knew he should, a sense of obligation overriding his reluctance. The lively atmosphere felt oppressive, the constant energy exhausting. He nursed a single beer, the bubbles long gone, the taste flat. He felt a kind of slow, heavy fog in his mind.

There was Chloe, looking stunning in a gold dress. He felt a sharp pang of envy, of regret. Regret for a thousand unspoken things. His fingers fidgeted with the napkin on his lap. He felt his face start to flush, and he was suddenly desperate for a way out.

He rose suddenly and excused himself, mumbling something about needing to step outside.