Gemotions

Sarah felt a surge of heat rush up her neck. Her hands, usually steady, were now clammy. Liam’s text message blared from her phone: “Bowling party, Saturday!” Saturday was the day of her carefully curated garden tea party.

She clutched her phone, her knuckles white. She’d spent weeks designing the floral arrangements, picking the perfect china, and hiring a string quartet. All for naught, potentially.

Her stomach churned. A wave of nausea washed over her. She imagined the guests, awkwardly divided, choosing between garden tea or bowling. Choosing *him* over *her*.