Gemotions

Rain lashed against the office window, mirroring the storm brewing inside Frank. He'd overheard the whispers. Sarah, only a year in the company, was earning more than him. He’d dedicated twenty years to this place, and this was how they repaid him. A tremor ran through his hands as he typed his report. He would not ask for a raise.

He ignored the incessant chatter in the open-plan office. He would bury himself in his work, showcasing his worth. He would make them see, without a single word from him, that he was an irreplaceable asset. He worked through his usual break and well into overtime, with a tight knot forming in his stomach.

The next day, when Sarah asked him for help with a particularly complex spreadsheet, he gave her the shortest instructions possible, refusing to elaborate. He made sure his tone was dry.