Gemotions

The bright lights and loud music of the reception hall felt like an assault on Elena's senses. The cheerful atmosphere seemed to amplify her own sense of despair. She sat alone at a table near the back, picking listlessly at her food. The intricate details of the room – the floral arrangements, the perfectly-placed place settings – were lost on her.

She felt a physical heaviness, as if her bones were made of lead. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. She stared blankly at the dance floor, watching couples whirl and twirl, their joy a stark contrast to her own emptiness.

A hand touched her shoulder. She jumped, startled. He was standing there. John. Her ex. She looked away, her cheeks burning. A wave of nausea washed over her. She excused herself without a word, desperate to escape.