Gemotions

The presentation was a disaster. Sarah stood rigidly, her carefully crafted slideshow suddenly seeming flimsy and amateurish next to Mark’s. He’d stolen the same core concept, the same innovative approach to the failing widget market, and then… executed it flawlessly. Her throat tightened; it was as if someone had punched her in the windpipe. She mumbled through the rest of the slides, her voice barely a whisper, a stark contrast to Mark’s confident baritone.

She avoided eye contact with the board members afterward, desperate to escape the room. A bead of sweat trickled down her temple. Each congratulatory handshake extended towards Mark felt like a jab in her gut.

Leaving the building, she practically sprinted to her car, fumbling with the keys. The leather of the steering wheel felt uncomfortably cold beneath her trembling fingers. She slammed the door and sank into the seat, burying her face in her hands. The utter emptiness of her victory was consuming.