Gemotions

The chess board sat between them, but Claire couldn’t concentrate. Leo, her son, moved a knight, his brow furrowed in concentration. The precise clicks of the pieces against the board were grating, amplified by the silent air. It was a game they had once shared, a source of connection.

Now, Leo was a prodigy. She stared at the board, her own strategies feeling clumsy and naive. He'd even started entering tournaments. The pressure to keep up, to not be a disappointment, was overwhelming.

She felt a dampness in her palms, a cold sweat creeping down her back. When Leo said, “Checkmate,” it felt more like a verdict than a game end.