Gemotions

The critic’s words echoed in Leo's mind, a constant, mocking chorus. "Overcooked," "bland," "lacking ambition"—each phrase was a fresh jab. He moved through his apartment like a ghost, his shoulders slumped, his eyes cast downward. He couldn't bring himself to face his partner, Maya.

He hadn’t touched his beloved collection of cookbooks. The once vibrant covers now seemed to sneer at him. His apartment, usually filled with the aroma of spices and simmering sauces, was silent and sterile. He found himself avoiding phone calls, fearing the inevitable sympathy.

He skipped his usual morning run, the exercise that usually cleared his head. Instead, he lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling, feeling an uncomfortable pressure in his chest. The weight of disappointment clung to him.