Gemotions

The photograph, faded but still vibrant, stared back at him. Sarah. The woman he'd thought he would spend his life with. The letter, tucked inside a worn copy of their favorite book, brought back the sting of betrayal. Five years. Five years since she'd left, since the shattering revelation, the whispered accusations.

He’d rebuilt, meticulously, brick by brick, a life devoid of vulnerability. He walked through his meticulously kept apartment. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he thought he'd outgrown. The letter felt heavy in his pocket, a phantom weight. He picked it up and reread it.

He tore the photograph in two.