Gemotions

He sat back in his worn leather armchair, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. The email notification pinged, the subject line a familiar one: "Northwood High - 10-Year Reunion." He'd seen it before, just glanced at it.

This time, he opened it. He read the details, his eyes scanning the names of the organizing committee. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips. He was happy, truly.

He leaned forward and sipped the scotch neat. He was exactly where he wanted to be. He had built his firm from the ground up, with a good deal of work and many nights. He’d helped people, made a difference. He set the invitation on the table and went back to his book, feeling the glow of the fire warm the back of his neck.