Gemotions

“Are you alright?” The question, laced with concern, startled Clara. She jumped, nearly spilling her wine. Her sister had noticed. Her hands were ice cold. She forced a smile. "Fine, just… a bit warm." She fanned herself with her hand.

She spotted him near the buffet table, making small talk with a group of people. The food, the decorations, the music – everything felt like a bad joke. She felt a growing desire to leave. She hadn't seen him in months. She hadn't *wanted* to see him.

She excused herself to the restroom, anything to get away from him. In the small, cold bathroom, she splashed water on her face, trying to compose herself. Her reflection looked pale, haunted. She swallowed hard, trying to push down the rising tide of… everything.