Gemotions

From the moment he received the invitation, the feeling started, a tightening in his stomach that refused to go away. He kept checking the locks on his front door, replaying every interaction he'd had with his parents over the past few weeks, searching for any hint of betrayal, any clue as to what was coming.

The retirement party felt like a set-up. The music, the food, the smiling faces – all a calculated distraction. He chose a seat at the back, close to the exit, always within easy reach of an escape route. He kept watching the doors, expecting something—anything—to happen.

The clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation grated on his nerves. He took a sip of water, his hand trembling slightly. When it was his turn to speak, he walked to the podium with leaden feet. He could feel everyone watching, judging, assessing. His words, he feared, would expose him, reveal all his vulnerabilities.