Gemotions

He was here. That fact alone made David's fingers itch. The perfectly knotted tie felt like a noose. Across the room, nestled amongst a cluster of guests, was Sarah, laughing at something the best man had said. The sound grated on David’s nerves.

Every muscle in his body felt wound tight, ready to snap. He gripped the edge of the bar so hard his knuckles whitened. He wanted to shout, to scream, to dismantle the entire illusion of the happy occasion.

He gulped his whiskey down in one long swallow. The burning in his throat was a welcome distraction, a physical manifestation of the tempest brewing inside him. Sarah caught his eye. A small, polite smile stretched across her lips. He turned away, the smile doing nothing to tame the fire.