Gemotions

He’d always known Elias was leaving. He just hadn't believed it. When Elias's office door remained closed all day, Michael felt a tremor of unease. He avoided it, telling himself that Elias was simply busy. But the next day, the door was still closed, the nameplate gone. It was just a blank, polished rectangle.

He wandered the halls, a strange hollowness growing in his chest. His usual buoyancy had evaporated. He felt a nagging worry, a constant need to check in, to receive that reassuring nod or brief comment that validated his work. He’d leaned on Elias, every step of the way. How would he possibly make that big presentation now?