Gemotions

The champagne flute trembled in Amelia’s hand, a tiny earthquake reflecting the chaos inside her. She hadn't expected to see *him* here. The floral arrangements, the string quartet, the carefully chosen linens – all a blur. Her stomach churned, a physical manifestation of the anxiety that had been building since she’d received the invitation. Now, across the crowded dance floor, there he was: Liam, looking impossibly handsome in his tailored suit. She took a hasty gulp of champagne, the bubbles doing little to soothe the sudden dryness in her throat.

Amelia plastered a smile on her face as she intercepted a passing waiter, swapping her champagne for a glass of water. It was easier to hold something neutral. She retreated towards the periphery of the room, near a large potted fern, hoping to find a moment of peace. Each breath felt shallow, as though her lungs were constricted by a tightening band.

Suddenly, a voice, intimately familiar, called her name. “Amelia! Fancy seeing you here.” Liam’s smile was polite, but his eyes held a flicker of something she couldn't quite decipher. A muscle in her jaw spasmed.