Gemotions

The party was in full swing, celebrating the book. She stood in the corner, a champagne flute clutched tightly in her hand, the bubbly a bitter taste in her mouth. She could feel the stares, the murmurs, the undercurrent of gossip.

She tried to appear relaxed, to smile, but her face felt stiff, unnatural. She noticed the slight tremor of her hands. A waitress approached, and she flinched, almost spilling the champagne.

She excused herself and retreated to the patio, gulping down the cool evening air. The night was hot. She tugged at her collar, desperate for relief from the sudden feeling of tightness, of being caught.