Gemotions

"Everything alright, Michael?" his wife asked, peering over his shoulder as he scrolled through his emails. He flinched, quickly minimizing the document that had consumed his thoughts all day. It detailed his new colleague's salary. He had been blindsided.

He forced a laugh, a sound that felt hollow even to his own ears. "Just work stuff, honey." He hoped she wouldn't see the tremor in his hand as he picked up his fork.

He picked at his food, suddenly finding it tasteless. The dinner conversation felt like a tightrope walk. He had to be cautious, to not reveal anything, to maintain the facade. The pressure built within his chest. He felt he might shatter.

Later, as he lay in bed, the darkness seemed to intensify the weight pressing on his chest. He couldn't fall asleep.