Gemotions

The cater waiters circulated, offering miniature quiches and champagne flutes. The energy buzzed, but Eleanor felt like an observer. She sat at a table near the window, watching the festivities unfold. A kind of passivity held her in its grasp.

She felt a gentle nudge against her arm and looked up. It was Mark, the groom. He grinned, gesturing across the room. “Look who’s here,” he said. He didn’t need to say more. She knew.

Her ex, Thomas, stood near the entrance, looking handsome in his suit. She felt no immediate panic, no fight-or-flight response. Instead, a sense of… stillness settled over her. She watched him approach, a slight tilt of his head, a hesitant smile. She found herself returning the gesture. She felt that this was how it had to be.