Gemotions

The antique letter opener trembled in her hand, nearly slicing through the expensive, cream-colored paper. Sarah stared at the familiar, elegant script, her stomach twisting into knots. Twenty years. Two decades since the gala, since the humiliation. The apology felt like a fresh wound, the words twisting the knife she thought she'd buried deep. She slammed the letter down, a sharp crack echoing in the silent apartment. Her breath hitched, catching in her throat. She felt the sudden urge to pace, back and forth, the polished wood of her living room floor wearing thin under her agitated steps.