Gemotions

The scent of gardenias filled the air, but Claire barely noticed. Her entire focus was on the door. Every time it opened, she would instinctively turn, a quick, almost involuntary motion. Her palms were damp, and she surreptitiously wiped them on her silk clutch. She fiddled with the clasp, opening and closing it repeatedly.

The photographer called for the bridesmaids, and Claire walked toward the camera, her step unusually brisk. She made sure she was positioned near the entrance, her smile bright and maybe just a little too wide. She felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to release. She scanned the crowd, her gaze flitting across each guest, hoping for a specific face. He had to be here.