Gemotions

The gallery was filled with chattering people, wine glasses, and the pretentious air of the art world. Across the room, nestled amongst a group, was Chloe. He'd recognized her instantly, even after all these years. He'd tried to approach her nonchalantly, hoping to appear sophisticated, collected. "Chloe, isn't it?" he'd asked, attempting a casual tone. She’d looked at him blankly, her lips pursing slightly. "I'm sorry," she'd responded, her voice tight with confusion, "I don't think so." He felt his carefully constructed facade crumble. He fumbled for his wine glass, spilling some down his shirt. He mumbled an apology and moved further away, acutely aware of the eyes on him.