Gemotions

Michael adjusted his tie, feeling a pressure in his skull as he scanned the wedding reception. The ballroom glittered, filled with chattering guests and the tinkling of champagne flutes. He wasn't entirely thrilled to be here. The last few weeks he had buried himself in work, but he knew he couldn't avoid Sarah's wedding. This friend was someone he treasured.

Then he saw her. Across the dance floor, her red dress blazing a trail through the crowd. Her laughter, which he used to find so infectious, echoed in the high ceiling. It seemed as though a long-forgotten memory had suddenly been unlocked, and he felt a sharp pang in his heart.

He felt his throat tighten. The memory of their last dance – the music, the way she smelled like roses – flashed before his eyes. He quickly pulled out his phone. He needed a distraction, something to ground him. He opened his news feed. He noticed he needed air and headed towards the open balcony door.