Gemotions

The email notification pinged, its sound like a tiny, irritating shard of ice dropped into Amelia’s skull. *Promotion Announcement: Congratulations, Michael*. She balled her fists, knuckles white against the desk. The carefully curated spreadsheet she’d been working on, the one showcasing her superior performance, felt suddenly flimsy, useless.

She shoved her chair back, the harsh scrape against the floor echoing in the suddenly quiet office. Michael, of course. Always Michael. He’d charm his way into anything.

Amelia marched to the breakroom, intending to make a cup of tea, but the words caught in her throat. She slammed the cupboard door, the ceramic mugs rattling precariously. She had been working on this company for years, for him to just stroll in and walk away with what she had been working for was cruel.