Gemotions

The clinking of glasses, the chattering voices, it was all too much. Eleanor found herself by the buffet table, picking at the food with little appetite. The room buzzed with a frenetic energy that she couldn't match. Every movement required effort. Every smile felt brittle.

A hand touched her arm, and her heart skipped a beat. It was Oliver. He looked exactly the same as when she last saw him, a charming smile on his face.

"Eleanor," he said, his voice warm and inviting. "Didn't expect to see you here."

She forced a smile, feeling the muscles in her face ache. "Me neither," she replied, her voice sounding distant and small. The world felt muffled, as if she were viewing it through a thick pane of glass.