Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Maya's temple. She surreptitiously dabbed at it with a napkin, hoping no one noticed. The string quartet’s rendition of “Here Comes the Bride” had just ended, and the reception was in full swing. Everything, from the meticulously arranged floral centerpieces to the tiny, personalized place cards, felt like a deliberate provocation.

She saw him then, a flash of familiar dark hair in the throng of guests. David. He was laughing, actually laughing, with someone she didn't recognize. Her jaw clenched. She felt a throbbing sensation behind her eyes.

"So," a voice said beside her. It was Emily, the bride. "Having fun?" Emily's effusive nature was usually a comfort, but right now it was grating. Maya mumbled something in response, but she couldn’t meet Emily's eye.