Gemotions

The champagne flute felt cool against Amelia's palm as she strolled through the sun-drenched garden. Butterflies danced in the flowerbeds, mirroring the playful lightness in her chest. She’d decided, finally, to wear the emerald green dress, and the silk seemed to flow around her like a gentle stream. Everything about the day felt easy.

She hummed along to the string quartet, pausing to admire the intricate floral arrangements. The clinking of glasses and murmuring of conversations formed a pleasant backdrop to her enjoyment. It was the perfect wedding, the kind that reminded her of all the good things.

Then, there he was, leaning against a tree, talking to Sarah. David. Her stomach did a sudden, unexpected flip. She took a deep breath, focusing on the scent of roses.