Gemotions

"So, you just… never came back?" The demolition foreman, a burly man with kind eyes, asked the question gently, like he’d stumbled on something awkward. Amelia shrugged, a dismissive gesture that didn't fool anyone, least of all herself. She looked away, focusing on the intricate patterns of the ivy that clung to the brickwork, a reminder of forgotten summers. The words got stuck in her throat. She should have written, called, at least visited. Instead, she had cut herself off. It was easier that way. The guilt was always a weight.