Gemotions

The clinking of champagne glasses, the sound of laughter. It drifted across the perfectly manicured lawn, a constant reminder of the lives lived just beyond her own. Emily, standing at her kitchen sink, scrubbed furiously at a stubborn stain on a plate, a red flush creeping up her neck.

She'd always considered herself content, but the summer barbecue thrown by her neighbor, Ms. Hawthorne, had shattered that illusion. The caterers, the imported wine, the sheer carefree abundance... it was a world away from her own, carefully budgeted existence.

She turned off the tap, her hand trembling slightly. She’d spent the last hour meticulously cleaning, a flurry of agitated energy, as if she could somehow scrub away the feeling that settled in her stomach.