Gemotions

The sterile smell of the hospital lobby did little to soothe Jackson's nerves. He clutched the envelope, the contents of which had irrevocably changed his life. He wasn't biologically related to his parents. The thought of their reaction was a physical weight in his chest.

He replayed memories of his mother's gentle touch, her calming voice during childhood sicknesses. He recalled his father's stoic strength, his quiet pride. The idea of causing them pain, of shattering their world, was unbearable. He felt a profound sense of responsibility, as if he needed to protect them from the fallout. He wanted to absorb the hurt, to take it away. He looked out the window. The rain started, and he began to cry.