Gemotions

He’d taken a long, deliberate sip of his lukewarm coffee, trying to steady his shaking hand. Mark watched Emily, his replacement, take notes, her pen scratching against the pad. He was supposed to be mentoring her, but the words felt like lead in his mouth. He thought of the presentation, the one he’d crafted meticulously, filled with his ideas, now being absorbed by someone else. The realization hit him, a bitter taste, a dull ache behind his eyes.

“Just remember,” he croaked, his voice cracking, “it’s about the team, not the individual.” The phrase sounded hollow, a rehearsed script he no longer believed.

The city buzzed outside, its energy a stark contrast to the stagnant feeling within him. He felt like he'd aged a decade in the last few days. He imagined the celebrations, the congratulations he'd receive at his new role. But the anticipation felt like ash in his mouth. He knew he'd carry this weight around for a long time.