Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the tent, mirroring the tumultuous weather brewing inside Clara. She clutched her champagne flute, the bubbly liquid doing nothing to soothe the knot in her stomach. The wedding felt like a blur of forced smiles and shallow conversations. Everyone seemed coupled, connected, and she felt adrift.

The music shifted to a slow dance, and couples began to sway on the dance floor. She watched them, their closeness a stark contrast to her own solitary existence. Then, she saw him: Mark, her ex-boyfriend, standing near the buffet table, looking more handsome than she remembered. A wave of heat washed over her, and she suddenly felt very warm.

She considered leaving then and there, but curiosity, or perhaps something else entirely, kept her rooted to the spot.