Gemotions

She found herself trailing behind the other guests, dawdling near the gift table. The ribbon on the carefully wrapped present felt rough against her fingertips. She was trying to delay the inevitable.

She saw him at the bar, ordering a drink. He looked up, and their eyes met. He offered a slight nod. She returned it, barely. The gesture felt hollow.

She knew she would need to be brave, and it would involve some sort of conversation, or an exchange. The thought filled her with dread. The party, once festive, now felt like a prison. She considered the consequences of walking straight out the door.