Gemotions

The air conditioning seemed to be failing. Ethan felt a sheen of sweat break out across his forehead. He had come to celebrate his friend’s nuptials, not to be a prisoner of his past. The room was a kaleidoscope of movement, noise, and forced cheer. Each forced smile felt like a betrayal.

He saw her across the room, chatting animatedly with the bride. Her laughter, the sound he used to adore, now felt like an unwelcome intrusion. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position, a physical manifestation of his emotional discomfort.

He made a beeline for the bar, needing something strong, something to numb the sharp edges of his anxiety. “Whiskey, neat,” he told the bartender, his voice sounding rough, unfamiliar. He gulped the liquor down, the burn a welcome distraction.