Gemotions

The room seemed to spin, the glittering lights blurring at the edges. Olivia clutched her glass of wine, the stem digging into her palm. The forced merriment of the wedding grated on her nerves. Every glance, every toast to enduring love, was a painful reminder of her own failures.

He arrived late, a latecomer like her, but his sudden appearance brought her heart rate crashing, her mind whirling. Mark. She'd known it would happen. He was the groomsman. The knot in her stomach tightened. She watched him greet people, his easy smile on display.

She moved towards the open doors, wanting to escape the music, the laughter, the suffocating atmosphere. She needed air, something, anything, to break the feeling of being trapped. She moved slowly, carefully, hoping to go unnoticed.