Gemotions

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Mark’s date, Sarah, gushed, gesturing towards the elaborate wedding cake. Mark mumbled an agreement, his attention elsewhere. He kept fiddling with the cufflinks on his wrist, a nervous habit he’d thought he’d broken years ago. He felt a strange flutter in his stomach, a lightness that was anything but welcome.

He’d arrived early, hoping to position himself strategically, to avoid a confrontation. But the venue was too small, the guest list too intimate. He knew, with a certainty that settled like a stone in his chest, that it was only a matter of time. He took another sip of his water, the cold liquid doing little to soothe the tightness in his chest.

He excused himself to go to the restroom, anything to get away, even for a moment. He splashed cold water on his face, staring at his reflection, the unfamiliar face of someone on the verge of something he couldn't control.