Gemotions

"Well, isn't this special," I muttered under my breath, my voice as tight as the knot in my stomach. The handwriting, instantly recognizable, mocked me from the cream-colored paper. I had almost forgotten the sound of his name, how it used to make me light up. Now, seeing it brought a bile-like taste to my mouth.

I tossed the letter onto the counter next to the microwave. Dinner was still cooking. I opened the oven, pulled out the tray of lasagna, and slammed the door shut.

I walked over to the letter and picked it up. I tossed it in the trash. Then, I turned around and went back to the microwave. I ate a microwave meal in silence.