Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Amelia’s temple as she stared out at the assembled guests. They all looked so… happy. Especially her mother, who was practically glowing with the thought of leisure. Amelia hated it. She hated the picture-perfect setup, the catered food, the congratulatory handshakes.

The podium felt like a stage, and she was the unwilling actress. She gripped the edges, her knuckles white. She looked around the crowd, taking in the easy laughter, the genuine affection. It made her stomach churn.

Her opening remarks were deliberately slow, almost hesitant. She spoke of her mother's dedication, her hard work, but the praise felt forced, like a poorly-written script. Then, she switched gears, describing all the times she felt her mother didn’t support her.

"I’m sure you all remember Mom’s commitment to her career," Amelia began, her voice gaining a sharp edge. The smile didn't reach her eyes. The room fell silent as she continued.