Gemotions

The champagne flute trembled in Amelia’s hand, the bubbles doing a nervous dance against the crystal. The music swelled, a generic love song that grated against her. She knew, she just knew, that she would have to see him. She scanned the crowd, her breath catching as a familiar mop of dark hair came into view. He was laughing, genuinely laughing, with someone else.

A wave of heat flooded her face. She took a large gulp of the champagne, the cold liquid doing little to quell the rising tide of…something. She excused herself from the conversation she was halfheartedly engaged in and retreated towards the buffet table, suddenly ravenous. The salmon looked unappetizing.

She found herself hovering near the restrooms, feigning interest in the floral arrangements. The knot in her stomach tightened with each passing second. She could feel his eyes on her, she just knew it. She considered running to her car, but she wouldn’t. Not yet.