Gemotions

Liam stared at the photograph, the grainy image of a young woman with his father’s eyes and a smile that mirrored his own. The letter, penned in a shaky hand, spoke of a casual affair, a youthful indiscretion. His stomach churned. He hadn't known his father could have another family.

He abruptly stood and started pacing his cramped apartment. The space felt suddenly smaller, the walls closing in. He usually took pride in his efficiency; everything had a place. Now, the clutter seemed to mock him, a physical manifestation of the disorder in his life. He kicked a stray shoe across the room, the sound echoing in the sudden silence.

He imagined the awkward phone call he'd have to make, the introductions, the questions. The entire situation was repulsive, a blemish on the legacy of his father that he'd always defended. He slumped on the sofa, his shoulders heavy, and rubbed his temples, trying to ward off a headache.