Gemotions

The string quartet’s rendition of “Here Comes the Bride” felt like a physical blow to Maya. It was their song. Or, it had been. Every note was a stab. She clutched the edge of her seat, knuckles white. The air felt thin, difficult to breathe.

She kept her gaze fixed on the bride and groom, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying the last text message she had ever received from him. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyelids.

When the reception started, she made sure to stay far away from him. When she did catch a glimpse of him, she felt a tightness in her throat. She stayed close to the other bridesmaids, laughing a little too loudly, as if she were trying to convince herself that she was enjoying herself.