Gemotions

A bead of sweat trickled down Marco’s temple. He straightened his tie, feeling the crisp silk against his chest. Around him, the room buzzed with chatter, but all he heard was the steady beat of his own heart. He knew everyone expected him to be nervous. He wasn't.

He walked to the podium, his steps deliberate. He looked at his father, who raised a brow. Marco chuckled, a low rumble of amusement. He delivered his speech with a flourish, recounting the years of advice, the stern lessons, the unwavering belief. He knew his father needed this, needed to feel valued.

He finished his speech and stepped away, not even pausing to see the reaction. He knew he'd delivered, he knew he'd nailed it. He felt the light, exhilarating feeling of having done exactly as he set out to.