Gemotions

"Great," Michael muttered, the word a rasp that barely cleared his throat. He’d been working on the Johnson account for six months, pouring over details, building the relationship. And now? A new owner, new priorities, new… everything. All that effort, just… gone.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture more a frustrated tug. The email announcing the sale sat open on his screen, its words mocking him. He’d envisioned a promotion, maybe even a partnership. Now, he’d be lucky to keep his job.

He slammed his fist lightly on the desk, the cheap particleboard trembling. He felt a burning sensation in his chest, a slow, simmering heat. He needed to get out, breathe. He rose and went for a long walk around the mostly empty office, the silence a suffocating presence.