Gemotions

He ran his hand through his short, brown hair. The lawyer’s announcement hung in the air: “To Emily, the vineyards and the winery.” He had always known he would be the one to inherit. After all, the name was his. His sister, Elizabeth, would receive a smaller sum and a small cottage.

He managed a stiff nod. He took a sip from his water. He hated the way she was smiling, her eyes bright with a joy he didn’t feel. He had spent his life helping his father, toiling in the sun. He should have been the one.

He felt the bitter taste of betrayal rise in his throat. He would never let her know, of course. He would be the dutiful brother, offering congratulations. But the thought of her presiding over the harvest, of her taking ownership of something that was rightfully his, filled him with a cold rage.