Gemotions

He leaned back in the creaky chair, the old draft letter spread across the mahogany desk. The afternoon sun, streaming through the window, illuminated the bold, confident strokes of his father’s signature. A gentle smile touched Leo's lips, as he felt the quiet peace settle in his bones. It was a release he hadn't known he needed.

He could practically hear his father's booming laughter, imagine his raised eyebrow, see the glint of rebellion in his eyes. A warmth, like a good whiskey, coursed through him. The weight on his shoulders, the shadow of his father's ambition that always pressed on him, seemed to lift.

He picked up the phone and dialed his own boss's number. “I’m putting in my notice,” he said, his voice firm and steady. The words felt good on his tongue, and he knew it was the right decision.