Gemotions

The celebratory champagne remained unopened on the table, the bubbles mocking the situation. I had envisioned this moment, the validation, the recognition. Now, the article, published under a colleague's name, was a monument to their betrayal. I felt a pressure in my chest, a sensation of being suffocated. I stood up abruptly, knocking over my chair. I needed to escape, to be away from the reality of the situation, away from the evidence of the theft. I stumbled out the door, the cool night air offering a small, temporary respite.