Gemotions

The award ceremony was a blur. Maya had helped write the speech for her boss, Dr. Evans, who was beaming and taking all the credit. She felt detached, observing the scene as if from outside her own body. The applause felt like a slap in the face. She focused on the intricate patterns of the tablecloth, anything to avoid eye contact with anyone.

That night, she couldn't eat. The beautiful bouquet of flowers he had gifted her sat on the table, their fragrance cloying. She tossed and turned in bed, the shame a physical presence. Each tick of the clock echoed the silence of her stolen work, a testament to her cowardice. She hated herself for it.