Gemotions

He’d envisioned the mountainous pile of gifts. The room, overflowing with the best champagne, the finest caviar, and the most flattering attention. The anticipation had become a tangible thing in his chest, a weight.

A call. A polite, but apologetic voice. "Something's come up. We're postponing." A postponement. That was a cruel joke. He’d already mentally inventoried the contents of each gift basket; the cashmere sweaters, the limited edition watches, the signed first editions.

His jaw clenched. He stared at the ornate gold mirror, his reflection somehow inadequate. Every single detail of the evening, the meticulously planned speeches, the flattering stories told in his honor, now gone. He wanted it all, now.