Gemotions

The chessboard was set up. His daughter, Maya, stared at the pieces, her brow furrowed. It had been his escape, his quiet battleground. Now, it was hers. And she was *good*. Too good. He remembered a time when losing was a lesson in humility, not an occasion for silent, seething frustration. She’d studied every opening, every endgame scenario, every countermove. He felt the familiar weight in his chest, the persistent tightness. She moved a pawn forward. He felt a need to anticipate her next move, every move, to prepare a defense against the coming attack. He had to be ready.