Gemotions

Michael slicked back his hair, catching his reflection in the elevator doors. His shoulders were back, chest puffed out, an unusual stance for him. He imagined the hiring manager's expression as he recounted his past successes, the innovative solutions he'd proposed. He’d practically carried the conversation.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby, and there was Emily, her face pale, clutching a crumpled tissue. “Rough one, huh?” Michael casually inquired, his tone light, conversational.

Emily just shook her head, muttering about the questions being too specific. A warm glow spread through Michael's chest, a feeling of lightness he'd rarely experienced. He was already composing the celebratory email to his mother.