Gemotions

The champagne flute wobbled precariously in Amelia’s hand, the bubbles a mocking dance of tiny explosions. Her smile felt glued on, a plastic facsimile of joy. She squeezed her eyes shut for a heartbeat, then forced them open again. Across the crowded dance floor, bathed in the garish glow of the disco ball, stood Liam. He was laughing, actually *laughing*, with the very woman he’d left Amelia for. A cold knot tightened in her stomach, a physical manifestation of the dread pooling in her chest.

She needed air, desperately. Excuse after excuse tumbled from her lips as she excused herself from the circle of well-wishers, weaving a clumsy path towards the patio doors. The music pulsed, a relentless throb that echoed the frantic beating in her ears.

The cool night air hit her like a slap, but it didn't help. Amelia leaned against the brick wall, the rough texture a grounding force. She took several shaky breaths, each one a struggle. God, she needed a drink, a strong one.