Gemotions

The invitation crackled in Amelia's hand, its glossy finish feeling almost obscene. Liam’s party. At the fancy new rooftop bar, with the city twinkling below. On *her* birthday. A slow, simmering burn crawled up her neck. She crumpled the card, then smoothed it out again, the plasticized paper a testament to his deliberate thoughtlessness.

Her fingers drummed a furious rhythm on the kitchen counter. She envisioned his smug face, lit by the expensive champagne flutes. A tight knot formed in her stomach. He knew how important this year was. They’d talked about it, dreamed about it, a simple backyard barbecue, intimate and genuine. He’d stolen that from her.

She slammed the fridge door shut, the sound echoing through the empty apartment. The decorations she'd painstakingly planned for her own gathering felt suddenly… pathetic. Tiny, insignificant. A dull ache throbbed behind her eyes.