Gemotions

Liam tugged at the collar of his shirt, the fabric feeling suddenly tight and restrictive. The room was stuffy, filled with the aroma of stale cigars and regret. His grandfather’s pocket watch, a gold-plated marvel, lay cradled in his palms. He didn’t want to sell it. Not really. But the mounting bills, the constant pressure… It was a burden he carried, and the watch felt like the heaviest weight of all.

His brother, dressed in a sharp suit, was pacing, impatient. “Come on, Liam, just tell the man the price. We need this sorted.” The words echoed in Liam's ears, and he found himself staring down at the watch. The intricate carvings seemed to mock him, the gold gleaming like a taunt.

He swallowed hard. He felt exposed, stripped of his pride. He cleared his throat. "It's… a family heirloom," he said, his voice barely a whisper. The other man just raised an eyebrow.