Gemotions

The small, cramped apartment felt even smaller now. Liam ran his fingers through his hair, his brow furrowed. The letter, penned in a frantic, spidery hand, lay open on the kitchen counter. *I can’t believe you…* The sentence, left unfinished, hung in the air like a taunt.

He'd dug it out of a box in the storage unit, a collection of forgotten artifacts from a life he’d rather forget. He reread the angry, adolescent accusations, the wounded pride. He felt a flicker of impatience.

He pushed the letter away, his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile. The sheer drama of it all. He poured himself a drink, the clinking of ice against glass filling the silence. The past was best left in the past. He raised his glass in a silent toast.