Gemotions

The aroma of freshly baked cookies, a peace offering from *her*, filled the breakroom. He ignored them, the overly sweet scent a nauseating reminder of her carefully constructed persona. Jessica, the woman who had always been two steps ahead.

He found himself staring at the microwave, the numbers ticking down. He remembered every all-nighter he had pulled, every extra hour he worked. He replayed the meetings, the presentations, the accomplishments. It felt like an insult.

He grabbed his sandwich, leaving the cookies untouched. The act felt small, rebellious, and meaningless. He walked back to his desk, the feeling of utter frustration and hopelessness washing over him.