Gemotions

The photographer had just called for the group shot, and Mark was already squished in the back row, trying to hide behind the groom’s boisterous uncle. Then, *he* showed up. Across the lawn, stepping out of a fancy sports car, all bronzed skin and gleaming white teeth. The air seemed to crackle with an unspoken tension. Mark found himself involuntarily straightening his shoulders, tugging at the too-tight collar of his borrowed shirt.

He watched from across the lawn as his ex, David, moved through the crowd, effortlessly charming everyone he encountered. The thought of having to exchange pleasantries, to pretend to be happy, made Mark feel physically ill. The wedding cake, which had moments ago seemed so appealing, now seemed to taunt him from across the yard.