Gemotions

He re-read the email, the words twisting in his gut. The truth, finally revealed, felt less liberating and more like a betrayal. He threw the phone across the room, it slamming against the wall. He wanted to break something, to inflict the pain he was experiencing on something, anything, else.

He paced his apartment, each step a measure of his simmering frustration. He pulled open drawers, tossing the contents onto the floor. Old photographs, forgotten letters – they were all lies. He kicked the couch, the impact sending a jolt of anger up his leg.

Later, he called his mother. The forced cheer in her voice made his stomach churn. The conversation was brief, punctuated by clipped sentences and a palpable tension. He ended the call abruptly, leaving her words hanging in the silence. He loathed her attempts to pretend, to maintain the façade.