Gemotions

He was halfway through his celebratory dinner when the waiter handed him the note. He had just received his promotion. He had finally made it. The note, tucked discreetly into a silver tray, read simply, "I regret..." He felt a wave of icy dread wash over him.

His appetite vanished. He pushed his plate away, suddenly nauseous. The restaurant, filled with the happy chatter of other diners, felt like a prison. His palms were slick with sweat. He felt trapped, his success rendered meaningless by this unwelcome intrusion from his past. He stood abruptly, excusing himself as he left the table.