Gemotions

The champagne flute felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a lead weight threatening to pull him under. He scowled at the perfectly manicured lawn, the happy couple beaming from the altar. Everything was too bright, too effervescent. He just wanted to go home and lie in the dark.

Then he saw her. Across the sea of pastel dresses and forced smiles, there was Clara, her familiar silhouette a punch to the gut. The air seemed to solidify in his lungs. He took a long, slow sip of the champagne, the bubbles doing nothing to lighten his mood.

He turned away, attempting to melt into the crowd, hoping she hadn't noticed him. The music, a jaunty rendition of something he usually enjoyed, grated on his nerves. He needed an escape.