Gemotions

"Great," Michael muttered, the word a mere exhale. He pressed the button again, though he knew it wouldn’t work. The red light remained stubbornly lit. He hated feeling exposed. He hated feeling trapped. He took another deep breath, trying to slow his hammering heart.

Across from him, his coworker, Jessica, was humming a cheerful tune. He envied her apparent serenity. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he was making until now. He should have told his wife about the email. He shouldn't have kept the secret from her.

He felt the familiar thrum of guilt, a low, persistent vibration that made his skin crawl. He closed his eyes, picturing the disappointed look on his wife’s face. He knew he was the architect of his own misery. He was so, so, very wrong.