Gemotions

He stared at the letter, a single word scrawled on the front: "Sorry." Mark’s hands were shaking so much, he almost dropped it. He felt like his head was in a vice. The past, a relentless phantom, had returned.

He sat down heavily on the sofa. He struggled to breathe. He wanted to scream. His vision blurred, and he had to blink repeatedly to clear his eyes. He pictured the aftermath, the awkward silences, the hurt.

He hated this. He hated the way his body was reacting. He hated how vulnerable it made him feel. He looked around his apartment as if he had never seen it before.