Gemotions

The drive home felt interminable. Coach Lawson gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The world around him seemed muted, the colors desaturated. His chest ached, a physical manifestation of the emotional turmoil. He kept replaying the conversation in his mind, each word a fresh wound.

He glanced at his phone, the screen reflecting the city lights. He felt a powerful urge to call someone, anyone, to share the burden. But who could understand? He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

He turned into his driveway, the quiet of his house a stark contrast to the internal chaos.