Gemotions

The invitation had arrived a month ago, and the moment she opened it, a knot had tightened in her stomach. She’d tried to get out of it, plead illness, even tried to convince her sister to take over, but there was no escaping the inevitable. Now, here she was. The air in the reception hall felt thick, almost suffocating.

She kept her gaze fixed on the floral centerpiece, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Her cheeks were burning. She was acutely aware of every awkward gesture, every tremor in her hands. The room’s decor – all those frilly tablecloths and balloons – seemed to amplify her discomfort.

She took a deep, shaky breath, knowing she couldn’t delay it any longer. "Well," she started, the word barely audible.