Gemotions

Sarah traced the rim of her champagne flute with her finger. The gold bubbles seemed to mock her, effervescent and joyful. All around her, her father’s colleagues, a blur of familiar faces, clapped and cheered. She felt... detached.

The ballroom was bathed in a warm, inviting light, but she felt a chill clinging to her bones. Seeing her father, beaming and embracing his friends, sparked something inside her. It felt like a parting.

He had always been her anchor, a source of unwavering strength. Now, this event, this celebration of his accomplishments, felt like a ship leaving the harbor, and she was left on the shore.

She adjusted her dress, the silk feeling rough against her skin. She had rehearsed her speech, memorized the anecdotes, but now, facing the crowd, the words caught in her throat. She delivered it, focusing on each syllable, each inflection, just as she had practiced, but her heart remained adrift. She barely heard the applause.