Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Clara's hand as she waited for the new hire. Her palms were slick, and she scrubbed them against her jeans. It wasn't the work itself, she reminded herself. It was the uncertainty, the sudden shift in power dynamics, the potential exposure.

Clara kept replaying the conversation with her manager, the casual tone, the reassuring words, all of it ringing hollow in her ears. Each creak of the floorboards outside her office door made her jump. She clutched her chest, attempting to regulate her breathing.

As the new woman approached, Clara straightened her back, a forced rigidity. Her smile felt wooden, unnatural. She found herself talking faster than usual, words tumbling over each other, trying to prove her worth, her value, her indispensability.