Gemotions

The microphone felt heavy in Elias’s hand, a lead weight threatening to drag him down. He glanced at his father, beaming under the celebratory lights, surrounded by colleagues offering hearty handshakes and back slaps. A knot tightened in Elias’s stomach, a familiar constriction. He thought of the countless soccer games missed, the parent-teacher conferences he’d attended alone.

He cleared his throat, the sound rough and strained. “Dad,” he began, his voice barely a whisper, then amplified by the speakers, a jarring intrusion into the festive din. He pushed down the urge to flee, to disappear into the anonymity of the crowd. He continued, each word a laborious effort, an unwelcome gift.

The faces in the room swam before his eyes, a blurred tableau of happiness he found himself unable to share. Every forced smile felt like a betrayal of the resentment that coiled within him.