Gemotions

The champagne flute felt delicate in Amelia’s hand, a stark contrast to the strength that thrummed through her. She surveyed the ballroom, her eyes landing on David across the room. He was attempting a smile, but it faltered around the edges. She lifted her chin, the emerald pendant at her throat catching the light. Its brilliance, like her own, was unmistakable.

Later, as the DJ announced the first dance, she maneuvered toward the dance floor. The silk of her dress whispered against her legs. She saw him watching her. She extended her hand to Mark, the groom, and spun into the waltz. Her laughter was a bright, clear sound that carried on the music.