Gemotions

"So, yeah," Mark started, adjusting his tie, "You'll be taking over all the client communications." The air in the breakroom felt thick, heavy. He’d barely finished the sentence when the words felt caught in his throat. He had worked tirelessly to build relationships with each of his clients, understanding their needs, their quirks. Now, a fresh face would be tasked with inheriting the fruits of his labor.

His stomach clenched. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he hadn't noticed until now. He focused on the details of the coffee machine, the drips, the empty cup someone had left. It was a physical thing to hold onto, something to distract from the hollow echo in his chest.