Gemotions

The drive there was a blur. He stared blankly out the window, the passing scenery a meaningless distraction. His hands were slick with sweat. He should be elated for his mother, but he wasn't. He felt something else, something sharp and cold, churning inside him.

He pulled into the parking lot and cut the engine. He didn't want to go in. He wished he could turn the car around and drive, drive far away, to a place where he didn't have to pretend.

He watched the other guests, all smiling and chatting, heading toward the entrance. Each step was a battle. He imagined all of them judging him, seeing through his carefully constructed facade. He took a deep, shuddering breath, opened the car door, and walked inside.