Gemotions

The weight of the trophy felt oppressive in her hands, a hollow mockery of their supposed shared triumph. Across the room, Sarah was beaming, basking in the spotlight, accepting congratulations. She was accepting all the credit, too.

In her carefully crafted narrative, she was the mastermind, the driving force, the one who had single-handedly secured their victory. The countless hours *he'd* put in, the strategic decisions *he'd* made, the sacrifices *he'd* endured – were all conveniently forgotten.

He felt a deep, almost physical, revulsion. He forced a smile, a grimace that felt like a betrayal of his own truth. The trophy felt heavy, the victory hollow.