Gemotions

The air in the art gallery was thick with pretense and polite conversation. Eliza clutched her wine glass, her knuckles white. Across the room, she saw *him* — Liam — chatting animatedly with a woman with a perfectly sculpted hairstyle and an overly expressive smile. The woman was wearing a necklace that Eliza recognized. Liam had "commissioned" it for her, just last month. Eliza’s face burned.

She refused to acknowledge them. Instead, she wandered through the gallery, examining the paintings with an exaggerated intensity. She was not the type to make a scene, ever. But she could not just ignore the situation either.

Eliza abruptly stopped in front of a particularly abstract canvas. She scowled, her lips pursed. She hated abstract art. She hated the woman. She hated everything at that moment.

She would not be seen to acknowledge the other woman.