Gemotions

"Oh, hey, Liam," Chloe heard, and the cheerful tone was like a slap in the face. It was her ex, Michael, looking impossibly well-rested and utterly unbothered. He was chatting with the bride's mother.

A flicker of... a certain feeling… crossed her face. She forced a smile and offered a brief, "Michael." He didn't even remember her favorite color, which she had told him a million times.

She found herself subtly rearranging her dress, as if the cut of the fabric suddenly mattered more than the way she felt inside. She had to keep herself from saying anything else, or from doing anything other than leaving the reception hall. She felt like a forgotten prop.