Gemotions

“Well, that’s just… wonderful,” Brenda drawled, her voice a sugary coating over a bitter pill. She'd known, of course. She'd suspected, but hearing it confirmed was like a slap in the face. She plastered on a smile that felt brittle, a fragile mask against the turmoil inside.

Her nails, freshly manicured, were digging into her palm. She’d worked tirelessly, strategically. She'd played the game, done all the right things, and still… nothing. The injustice of it all was a physical weight.

The clatter of congratulations around David's desk felt like a mocking symphony. She had to get out, to breathe. She turned, her back stiff, and made her escape, the office hallways now seeming a maze of echoing failures.