Gemotions

He’d messed up. Again. The presentation was a disaster, a jumbled mess that had left their client looking disappointed and him looking utterly incompetent. The silence in the office felt deafening after the meeting. James slumped in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

His colleague, Sarah, walked over, her expression unreadable. She’d always been so put together, so capable. "Rough one?" she asked softly.

James's throat constricted. He managed a weak nod, his eyes fixed on the worn surface of his desk.

"You know, I went to Camp Willow Creek when I was a kid," Sarah said, changing the subject. "That place was such a mess."

His head lifted slightly, startled. "Really?" he croaked. He’d spent a summer there, one filled with humiliation and clumsiness.