Gemotions

The train rumbled along, a rhythmic vibration that did little to soothe the turmoil inside Eleanor. She stared out the window at the passing landscape, a blur of greens and browns. The apology, carefully penned and hand-delivered to her office, lay nestled in her bag. She didn’t want to read it. She didn’t even want to acknowledge its existence.

Her jaw ached. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force away the memories. The sting of betrayal, the humiliation, the years of quiet resentment. She focused on her breathing, shallow and rapid. Years. The audacity of it, to think that a simple letter could erase what they had done.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to rip the letter into a thousand pieces and throw them out the window. She wished she could go back in time and change things.