Gemotions

He paced his apartment, the silence amplifying the thrumming anger in his chest. Each step felt deliberate, a counterpoint to the hurried, chaotic exit. He'd trusted the old man, revealed his hopes and fears, and this was the repayment? A brief, impersonal email, devoid of any genuine feeling, that read, "I'm done. You'll do fine." He stopped in front of the window, his reflection staring back, a mask of tightly controlled fury. He'd show him. He'd surpass him. He'd prove that he didn't need him. He would, despite the man's cowardly lack of commitment.