Gemotions

Ethan stood rigid, nursing a scotch at the back of the reception. He’d barely touched his plate of food, the aromas of roasted chicken and fragrant herbs doing nothing to stir his appetite. He felt a deep, pervasive weariness. He’d come to support his friend, but the whole affair felt like a cruel irony, a parade of couples happily partnered while he felt adrift.

Then, from across the crowded room, he spotted her. Chloe. Talking to the groom's brother, her laughter bright and easy. The scotch burned going down, but it did nothing to take away the dull ache in his chest.

He took another sip, his gaze fixed on her. The world seemed to shrink, focusing only on that one person. He felt exposed, stripped bare. He knew he should approach her, say hello. But the thought made him feel physically sick.