Gemotions

The flickering departure board glared at Amelia, its digital face mocking her with the word “DELAYED.” Her palms were slick, and she scrubbed them against her jeans, a nervous habit she’d picked up in times of stress. The wedding was supposed to start in two hours, a flight away, and the groom was her brother.

She considered calling him, but the thought of his disappointment, the tremor in his voice, made her hesitate. Instead, she paced the sterile airport corridor, the rhythmic click of her boots a hollow counterpoint to the announcements. The air conditioning blasted, making her shiver despite the warmth of the day outside.

Her gaze darted from face to face, searching for a sympathetic look, a shared misery. Everyone else seemed so calm, sipping their coffee, lost in their phones. It felt as if everyone had a secret, and they were all in on it but her.