Gemotions

The small talk felt like a personal attack. "Isn't this a lovely day?" "The bride looks radiant!" Each platitude chipped away at his fragile calm.

Then he spotted her, standing near the dessert table. The sight of her, the curve of her neck, the way her hair caught the light… it was like being hit by a wave of pure frustration. He watched from afar as she started up a cheerful conversation.

He needed space, a vast expanse of empty space between them.

He suddenly felt claustrophobic, trapped within the walls of the elegant venue. He fumbled with his phone, pretending to check a message, anything to avoid eye contact.