Gemotions

"It's fine, it's fine, it's all fine," Maya repeated, her voice sounding shaky even to her own ears. Her hands fluttered around the cake she was trying to frost, the buttercream frosting refusing to cooperate, crumbling and falling apart. She felt a cold, clammy sensation in her palms.

The balloons she had painstakingly inflated were now drooping, deflated, like the spirits of her guests. She pictured the party, her own party, and then, immediately, Mark's. The vision sparked a sharp, painful ache behind her eyes.

She wanted to scream. Instead, she took a deep, shaky breath, and forced a smile. She needed to fix this. Now.