Gemotions

He adjusted his tie, the knot feeling like a noose. The room was oppressively warm, filled with the aroma of pot roast and fake camaraderie. He had been strong-armed into this, guilted into accepting the role of the ‘loving’ son. He had so much to say, but none of it was suitable for this audience.

His mother looked expectant, her eyes shining with pride. He saw her, always the devoted spouse, the ever-supportive figure. The thought of this perfect image made him want to shatter something.

He cleared his throat, trying to force a smile. "Mom and Dad," he said, the words coming out flat and emotionless. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples. He hated that he was here, a tiny part of him wanted to scream. Why did he have to be the one to do this?