Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt strangely heavy in Elias’s hand. He hadn’t expected anything. Certainly not from *her*. He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat suddenly constricting. Twenty years. Twenty years since the bonfire, since the fallout, since... everything. He ripped it open, his fingers clumsy, almost failing him. The looping handwriting on the cream-colored stationery was instantly recognizable. His heart hammered against his ribs.

He scanned the first few lines, his breath hitching. The words swam before his eyes. He lowered himself into his armchair, the leather cool against his skin. He felt a peculiar stillness descend, a profound silence in the midst of his bustling living room. He read the letter again, and then again. The paper crinkled in his grip. He couldn't quite fathom it. His gaze drifted to the window, the autumn leaves a blur of color.