Gemotions

The champagne flute trembled in Amelia’s hand, a tiny earthquake echoing the one starting in her chest. She saw him across the crowded reception, leaning against a pillar, a deceptively charming smile on his face as he spoke to a woman she didn’t recognize. Her stomach lurched. It had been nearly two years. Two years of freedom, of rebuilding, of finally feeling whole again. Seeing him felt like being plunged back into the swirling chaos of their breakup. She took a hurried gulp of the bubbly, the effervescence doing little to quell the sudden heat that had flushed her cheeks.

Her carefully constructed facade of composure began to crack. She wanted to bolt, to disappear into the verdant gardens outside, but her feet were lead. She considered feigning a sudden illness, but that felt too melodramatic. Instead, she took a shaky breath and plastered a smile on her face, a brittle thing that didn't quite reach her eyes.

He turned, their eyes met, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. He raised his own glass in a mock salute, a gesture that managed to be both familiar and utterly alien. Amelia felt a cold sweat prickle her skin. She had to get away.