Gemotions

"Reunion, huh?" Mark’s wife, Emily, sounded genuinely excited. He stared at the invitation, the glossy photo of his younger self staring back. He gave a noncommittal grunt. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

He worked in a job he loathed, lived in a house he didn't care for, and spent his weekends doing the things he felt he *should* be doing. The open road, the freedom to travel, these were just fantasies. His wife, the kids... these were his responsibilities.

"It would be nice to see everyone," Emily continued, oblivious. He nodded slowly, picturing the endless small talk, the forced smiles, the reminders of dreams deferred. He could feel his shoulders slump, his posture collapsing inwards. He knew he'd go, of course. He always did what was expected of him.