Gemotions

He stared at the invitation, his breath catching in his throat. A tiny, almost imperceptible tremor shook his hand as he traced the embossed lettering. It had been decades since he'd walked those halls, decades since he'd last seen those faces. His stomach twisted. The reunion.

He’d buried the past, carefully constructed a life where that part of him didn’t exist. He’d worked hard to become someone entirely different. Now, this… this summons threatened to unravel everything. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost frantic. The living room suddenly felt too small, the air thick and oppressive.

“No,” he whispered, the sound barely audible. The neatly organized bookshelves, the expensive artwork – all seemed to mock him. He balled the invitation into a tight fist, the paper crinkling noisily. The image of the high school gymnasium, transformed, waiting for him, flashed in his mind. He couldn’t go. He *wouldn't* go.