Gemotions

The air in the hospital room was thick with the scent of antiseptic and despair. James sat beside his ailing mother, his own health declining with each passing day. He was losing everything. Amidst the get-well cards, a single, unassuming envelope caught his eye, its sender's name a sharp, painful echo of the past. Her.

He barely recognized the elegant handwriting. He unfolded the letter, his hands numb, his vision blurred. He found an apology. He closed his eyes, his breath hitching in his chest. A wave of memories washed over him, and he let the letter fall to the floor.