Gemotions

"Just a sabbatical, then?" she'd asked, trying to sound casual, but the words felt brittle and thin in her own ears. Dr. Ramirez’s response had been a gentle, "No, I'm afraid it's permanent." The statement sliced through her like a shard of glass.

She’d spent the rest of the meeting nodding and smiling, her face carefully composed. But inside, her stomach was a churning cauldron.

Once she was safely back in her tiny, cluttered apartment, the façade crumbled. Tears welled up, blurring the already dim light. She sank onto the sofa, hugging a cushion to her chest as if it could somehow absorb the impact of the news.

She felt a deep, almost primal ache, a sense of abandonment she hadn't anticipated.