Gemotions

The chessboard, once a battlefield of the mind, now felt like a prison. Henry, hunched forward, watched his daughter, Olivia, make a move. Olivia was a chess prodigy, her strategic mind a match for the best players in the world. He'd taught her everything, and she had become better than him, in less than a year. The tables were turned.

Olivia was winning tournaments, collecting trophies, and leaving Henry feeling defeated. His own games were a slow, plodding struggle, the joy of the game, gone. He felt his hands begin to sweat. He closed his eyes.

“Checkmate, Dad,” Olivia announced, her voice filled with polite triumph. Henry nodded. He wanted to be happy, but he just couldn't. He looked at the board, then at his daughter. He pushed back his chair, the sound of the wood scraping against the floor making him wince. He needed to get away. He stood and left the room.