Gemotions

The party was a joke. Balloons bobbed mockingly in the air. Fake smiles plastered themselves on everyone’s faces. The only person who seemed genuinely thrilled was David, beaming like a lighthouse. Across the crowded room, she saw him, laughing with his new coworkers, the ones who would replace her.

She excused herself and stepped out onto the balcony, the night air a welcome relief. The city lights twinkled below, a vast and indifferent spectacle. A knot formed in her stomach. She downed the entire contents of her drink and slammed the glass down on the railing, the sound barely audible over the music.

She was so tired of pretending to be okay. He was leaving, abandoning their favorite spots, the inside jokes, the years of history. "You know," she muttered to herself, staring into the dark, "I'm not going to miss this."