Gemotions

The speeches were excruciating. Emily kept taking small sips of her wine, hoping the alcohol would help. The room’s decorations seemed to blur around her; the colors were too bright, the lights too harsh. She felt disconnected, as if observing the scene from behind a sheet of glass. The familiar, rhythmic drumming of a headache had started behind her eyes.

She watched him from across the table, across the sea of faces, observing him. He looked well, healthier maybe. His presence in the room was a heavy weight, pressing down on her chest.

She abruptly stood, mumbling an excuse about needing to use the restroom. The stale air in the hallway felt like a welcome relief. She leaned against the cool wall, attempting to regulate her breathing.