Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the office seemed to hum a mocking tune, a constant reminder. Sarah watched Mark across the room, the recipient of congratulatory slaps on the back. His grin was a little too wide, his eyes a little too bright.

She gripped her coffee mug so tightly the ceramic felt cold against her clammy hands. The promotion. It was supposed to be hers. She'd put in the hours, the extra effort, the willingness to take on any task.

"Drinks after work, yeah?" Mark boomed, loud enough for her to hear. A chorus of agreement followed. She excused herself, the sudden, sharp pang in her stomach a familiar companion these days.