Gemotions

The newspaper lay open on the table, the headline screaming, "Chef Marco's Fall From Grace." He traced the words with a shaking finger, each syllable a stab of pain. He hadn’t felt this empty since the divorce. He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white. His whole future, his livelihood, had been reduced to a cruel punchline.

He picked up his phone, dialing the number for his ex-wife. She wasn't answering. He wanted to scream. He imagined going outside, getting a drink. The familiar ache in his gut intensified. He knew he was the one that made the mistakes, though. He knew he needed to fix it.