Gemotions

The drive back from the florist had been a blur of red lights and missed turns. Liam fumbled the speech, the paper rustling in his anxious hands. He found himself picking at the seams of his jacket, a nervous habit he hadn’t displayed in years. He felt the cold sweat on his palms. He wasn't sure if he could make it through the next day.

His father, the stoic, unyielding man, was retiring. And Liam, the son who had always struggled to meet his father's expectations, was tasked with the most difficult job of all: faking contentment. He leaned against the car, the cool metal offering a small measure of comfort, and stared blankly at the sky.