Gemotions

The phone vibrated in her hand. A text from Jake: “Party at my place Saturday!” The same Saturday as her meticulously planned garden party. Her breath hitched in her throat. She gripped the phone so tightly, her knuckles were white.

A low growl rumbled in her chest. All that planning, the flowers she'd ordered, the caterers booked, the perfectly manicured lawn. Now what? She tossed the phone onto the bed, the sudden impact a small, satisfying explosion of frustration.

She ran her hands through her hair, tangling the strands. This was absurd. Utterly, completely absurd. She picked up the phone, and with a tight voice, began to dial.