Gemotions

The envelope arrived addressed to "Mr. and Mrs. Michael Davies," the 'Mrs.' a cruel reminder. He'd circled the date on the calendar, his hand trembling slightly. He hadn’t felt this unsettled in years. He’d torn the letter in half. He put it in the trash. He pulled it out again. He smoothed it out, smoothing out the tears.

He considered the old pictures in the closet, the memories. The glory days of football, the friendships, the potential. Now? Now he was a divorced, middle-aged man with a potbelly and a mountain of debt. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. His current reality felt like a punch to the gut.

He looked at the empty seat at his kitchen table. She would have loved to go.