Gemotions

A cold sweat slicked Mark's palms as he reread the words. He found the letter tucked within a childhood scrapbook, a time capsule of better days. The letter's return address revealed that it was sent to his estranged brother, a brother he hadn't spoken to in years. He felt the familiar weight in his gut, a twisting knot he'd grown accustomed to. He’d ripped the envelope open, driven by a morbid curiosity.

*“I’m so sorry,”* he read, the words a knife twisting in his gut. *“I messed everything up. I should have told you how I felt.”* The paper crackled in his grip, the sound amplified in the otherwise silent room. He slumped against the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on a chipped mug.

He thought, *Why didn't I send this? Why didn’t I just say something?*