Gemotions

He was standing right next to me, chatting with the groomsmen, a casual air about him that felt like a slap in the face. My breath hitched. It was David. My David. The one I had painstakingly tried to forget. He looked… well, good. Too good. His suit fit him perfectly, and that stupid, charming grin was plastered across his face. A wave of nausea washed over me. I gripped the edge of the buffet table, knuckles turning white. The room swam for a moment, the cheerful chatter of the wedding guests blurring into a meaningless hum. Did he even see me? He'd better not try to talk to me.