The first few bites tasted fine. Normal. Then something shifted. It wasn’t pain. Not exactly. More like a delay. Her thoughts felt a step behind her movements, her body slower to register itself. Heat crept up her neck. The room seemed louder, sharper at the edges. Clare set her fork down, willing the sensation to pass. “I’m going to use the restroom,” she said, already standing.
Brooke noticed immediately. “Want me to come with you?” Clare shook her head, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just need a minute.” The bathroom was cool and quiet. Clare braced her hands against the sink, breathing through a wave of nausea. The wine hadn’t sat well, she told herself. That was all. Too little food, too much celebration.