Gemotions

The elevator ride had been interminable. He’d pressed the button three times, convinced it was malfunctioning. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic rhythm that matched the tension coiling in his gut. The view from the office window, high above the city, offered no solace. All he could see were the endless gridlines of buildings, mirroring the rigid structure of his current life.

He'd arrived early to avoid precisely this: waiting. He’d paced the lobby, finding it filled with an insufferable air of forced serenity. He kept glancing at his watch, counting down the seconds until he could be done with this.

The door opened. It was Emily, the girl who had always seemed to know how to push his buttons. She offered a polite smile, but he saw the glint of amusement in her eyes. "Mark, please. Come on in," she said, her voice dripping with an infuriating cheerfulness. He wanted to refuse, but his feet moved anyway, guided by a strange, unwelcome sense of obligation.