Gemotions

A bead of sweat traced a path down Leo's temple. He'd rehearsed this wedding a million times in his head: small talk, polite nods, keep it brief, avoid eye contact. He’d lasted all of ten minutes before seeing Chloe across the room, resplendent in emerald green, and his plan had crumbled. His palms were slick.

He clutched the edge of the buffet table, inspecting the tiny sandwiches with an unnecessary intensity. They looked exactly as he remembered them, these mini bagels with cream cheese and salmon. The thought made him feel slightly sick.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. It was Mark, the groom. "Everything okay, man? You look like you've seen a ghost." Leo forced a smile. "Just… admiring the cuisine." He quickly grabbed a sandwich and stuffed it in his mouth.