Gemotions

She chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she hadn't realized she still possessed. The ornate floral arrangements seemed to blur around the edges of her vision. Sarah gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles white. She had spent the last two months carefully constructing a narrative of detachment, of indifference. This wedding, and the potential for a collision with David, threatened to shatter that facade.

She spotted him near the bar, chatting with the groom. A shiver ran down her spine. The laughter around her felt loud, intrusive, as though amplifying the pounding in her ears. She forced a smile for the person talking to her, but her thoughts were elsewhere, fixated on the impending encounter.

She felt a sudden urge to flee, to disappear into the night. It felt like her throat was closing up. The dance floor beckoned, an enticing abyss.