Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminably long. He’d been in the building since before sunrise, pouring over every detail of the quarterly report. He knew the numbers, the projections, the pitfalls. He knew it all better than *she* ever could.

He gripped the polished brass handrail, feeling the cold seep into his fingers. The elevator doors opened. There she was, Amelia, holding court as always. Laughter echoed in the hallway, all of them admiring her newly acquired designer handbag.

He simply nodded as he passed, his face impassive. Her new expensive bag, another gift from a potential benefactor. He continued down the hallway, the sound of their chatter fading behind him. He felt the familiar twist of frustration.