Gemotions

The silence in the restaurant was deafening. Amelia clutched her handbag, her knuckles white. The table, decorated with cheap party favors, looked ridiculously festive now. She should have suspected something when nobody called to confirm, but she’d been so eager, so hopeful. Now, the waiter's apologetic explanation felt like a punch to the stomach. She stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. She needed to get out, away from the judgmental eyes of the other diners. She practically ran for the door, the tears blurring her vision.