Gemotions

“Just be yourself,” her brother had said. Easier said than done. Emily felt the corners of her mouth twitch as she rehearsed the opening lines in her head. She found the words stuck in her throat, refusing to be dislodged.

Her mother was glowing, surrounded by well-wishers. Emily watched them, a small group of cheerful strangers, their joy a sharp contrast to her own muted mood. She imagined her reflection in the glass of the window, a pale ghost against the bright festivities.

The speech was something she’d agreed to, something she felt she had to do. Another expectation to be met. The microphone felt heavy in her hand. Her shoulders slumped.