Gemotions

He'd found it stuffed inside a worn leather briefcase. A draft resignation letter from his father, to a construction company he had been associated with for only a few years. It was dated a decade before he’d met his mother.

A wave of nausea washed over him. The language, the tone, was utterly unlike the man he knew. His father had always been a rock, a steady force in his life. He felt the world tilt on its axis.

He slammed the briefcase shut, the sound echoing in the empty house. He grabbed his keys and bolted out the door, needing to get away, to escape the suffocating weight of this new information. He needed the open road, the wind in his hair, to clear his head.