Gemotions

The takeout container felt heavy in Sarah's hands, a stark contrast to the lightness in her chest only an hour before. She’d been so excited about celebrating Mark’s promotion. Now, parked outside his apartment, her stomach churned. The "VP of Marketing" title he’d been flaunting now felt like a cruel joke. He’d confessed, stammering, that he worked at a call center. The facade – the fancy dinners, the designer clothes – all built on a foundation of falsehood. She couldn't bring herself to go inside. The greasy smell of the noodles was suddenly unbearable, and she just wanted to get away.