Gemotions

The email sat in Oliver's inbox, stark and unwelcome. His stomach churned. The subject line, "Party Update," promised excitement; the body of the message delivered a cold, hard blow. Canceled. He read it again, each word a fresh wound. He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further.

He slammed his laptop shut, the abrupt action a vent for the storm brewing inside. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, feeling a tremor run through his limbs. The anticipation, the joy he had felt in the weeks leading up to the celebration, was instantly replaced with a hollow ache. He felt like something precious had been ripped away, leaving a gaping void.