Gemotions

The thin, cream-colored envelope felt heavy in his trembling fingers. A childish drawing of a cake adorned the front, and inside, a generic birthday greeting. The lack of a name twisted a knot in Mark’s stomach.

He avoided eye contact with the mail carrier as he retreated inside. His wife, Sarah, would be home soon. He needed to get this out of his sight. He hadn't been a good husband this year, consumed by his own worries.

He crumpled the card, then smoothed it out, a small, involuntary movement. He really had messed things up. He wouldn't look at it again, not today. He tossed it into the recycling bin, hoping the metal would absorb the weight pressing down on his chest.