Gemotions

The taste of bile rose in his throat. He wanted to yell, to argue, to demand an explanation. But the words were caught, choked back by the burning knot in his chest. His chest felt constricted, as if a vise was squeezing the life out of him. He’d dedicated every spare moment to this sport.

He shoved past the other players, ignoring their sympathetic glances. They hadn’t seen the hours of work, the sweat, the silent sacrifices. He slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing through the empty hallway.