Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window, mirroring the tempest inside Mark. His father’s old study felt cold, even with the fireplace roaring. He’d stumbled upon the letter crammed behind a bookshelf, a relic from a past he’d only known through half-truths. The typed words, stiff and formal, spoke of a career change, of "seeking new challenges." Challenges? His father always said he’d been cheated, betrayed. Now…this.

Mark ran a hand through his already messy hair. He’d spent his life trying to live up to the myth of his father, the wronged man. He'd followed him into the same field, the same cutthroat world. The weight in his chest had grown heavier with each passing year, and the words of the letter made his chest tighter. He slammed his fist onto the desk, the force dislodging a framed photograph of his father, young and smiling. The glass shattered.