Gemotions

The reunion was a disaster. Sarah had spent weeks planning, reliving childhood memories with a giddy anticipation. When she'd finally approached David, excitement bubbling inside her, he'd looked at her as if she were a stranger.

“I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else," he’d stated, his voice devoid of warmth. “I don’t remember a Sarah.”

Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. Her carefully crafted smile faltered, her grip on her champagne flute tightening until she was afraid the glass would shatter. The band's music, once a source of nostalgia, now sounded like a mocking dirge. The vibrant colors of the decorations seemed to dim. She felt a burning need to disappear, to escape the suffocating weight of his indifference. She turned and bumped into someone, spilling champagne down the front of their dress. "Oh! I'm so sorry!" she blurted, but she barely registered the woman's response as she fled the room.