Gemotions

The magazine lay on the table, a pristine, glossy monument to betrayal. He had seen the email about the publication a week earlier. But seeing it with the name "Sarah Miller" attached to his essay still felt like a punch to the gut. Michael's hands trembled as he picked up the magazine.

His throat felt tight, and his chest felt heavy. He envisioned Sarah at the fancy cocktail party, enjoying the praise that was rightfully his. The room around him seemed to shrink, the walls closing in.

He tossed the magazine onto the fireplace, and the movement was not a sign of respect. He hated her more than he could ever have imagined.