Gemotions

The meeting room felt stuffy, the air thick with unspoken expectations. He sat across from her, Sarah, her expression carefully neutral, like a mask. He could practically smell the victory radiating from her.

He kept his gaze fixed on the mahogany table, tracing the swirling grain with his fingertip. The polite smiles, the forced camaraderie – it was all a charade. He felt a tremor in his hand, a twitch he couldn’t control.

He forced himself to meet her eyes, a sharp, brief flicker. The words of congratulations were already forming on her lips, he could tell. He cut her off abruptly with a curt nod, a coldness in his voice that was almost palpable. He abruptly rose to leave, barely acknowledging her.