Gemotions

"Oh, for crying out loud," muttered David under his breath, watching Maya glide towards him. The red dress. Of course, the red dress. He'd always loved that dress, and the fact that it was now a weapon aimed directly at his composure felt like a personal affront.

He took a large gulp of his scotch, the liquid burning a path down his throat. His breath caught in his chest. He debated feigning a sudden, urgent need for the men's room, but it was too late. Maya was already there, her smile as bright and dazzling as always, a cruel reminder of what was and what now wasn't.

He offered a tight, polite greeting, forcing a pleasant tone. This was going to be a struggle.