Gemotions

The champagne flute felt unusually light in Clara's hand as she surveyed the dance floor. It had been nearly a year since she'd last seen Mark, and the intervening months had done wonders. Gone was the hesitant, insecure woman he’d known. Now, she moved with an easy confidence, her silk dress shimmering under the disco ball. She saw him across the room, leaning against a pillar, looking… well, she supposed she could admit it, a little lost. Her lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile.

She raised the flute in his direction, a silent toast, and then, without hesitation, turned back to the handsome stranger she'd been chatting with. "So, you were saying about that trip to Italy?" she prompted, her voice bright and melodic. She caught the brief flash of surprise on Mark's face before he looked away.

The music swelled, and she laughed, pulling the stranger onto the dance floor. The world felt vibrant, full of possibilities.