Gemotions

From across the room, it was like a gut punch. Liam watched, frozen, as Emily glided into the reception hall on the arm of a man he didn't recognize. The man was laughing at something Emily had said, his hand resting lightly on her back.

Liam’s fingers curled into fists. He felt a familiar heat rising in his neck. The wedding, once a source of excitement, now felt like a cage. He couldn't shake the image of her, so effortlessly happy, seemingly oblivious to his presence.

He excused himself from the conversation he was having and walked toward the bar, needing something to steady his nerves. He ordered a double scotch, hoping the strong liquor would quell the churning in his stomach. The bartender asked for his name, and Liam could barely mutter it.