Gemotions

"More wine, darling?" Sarah asked, her voice light, as she refilled Eleanor's glass. The patio glowed with the amber light of string lights, illuminating their laughter and easy conversation. Eleanor loved these evenings; a comforting escape after a long week. Eleanor’s best friend, Mark, had been saying for years that he had to work late nights at the law firm, often even weekends.

Eleanor accepted, swirling the liquid thoughtfully. They had been friends since college, sharing every triumph and struggle. She knew Mark’s work ethic was formidable, his dedication unwavering. He had, according to Mark, just made partner.

The conversation drifted to her new promotion, and Eleanor felt a familiar sense of pride bloom in her chest. Suddenly, Mark cleared his throat, his face pale in the dim light. "About the law firm," he began, his voice a low tremor. The air in the patio seemed to grow cold, and Eleanor found it hard to breathe.