Gemotions

My stomach lurched. Across the crowded dance floor, bathed in the lurid glow of the disco ball, stood *her*. Sarah. My chest felt like it had been suddenly and unexpectedly filled with concrete. I'd spent the last year meticulously avoiding scenarios like this. Of course, fate, in its infinite cruelty, chose a champagne-soaked wedding to reunite us.

I fumbled with my champagne flute, the delicate glass nearly slipping from my trembling fingers. Should I pretend not to see her? No, that would be worse. I plastered a smile onto my face, a grimace more than a gesture of greeting, and began the slow, agonizing trek toward her.

"Hey," I managed to croak out, my voice sounding foreign even to my own ears. Her eyes widened, a flicker of something unreadable passing over her face. The music seemed to amplify in my ears, a relentless beat hammering against my skull.