Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash, bitter and useless, just like everything else. He was the one who had built this whole system, and now he was supposed to dismantle himself, piece by piece, as he showed the new kid, Ben, everything. “And this,” he croaked, gesturing at the complex spreadsheet, "is the key to everything."

He'd been up all night, replaying the conversation with his manager, the polite, yet dismissive, words of the HR rep. The tightening in his chest made it hard to breathe sometimes. He looked at Ben’s focused face, the way he absorbed information like a sponge.

The phone rang, and the sound made him jump. It was his wife. He lied, saying everything was fine, that he'd be home at the usual time. He found he could barely get the words out. He glanced at the clock, each second stretching into an eternity. He had to keep it together.