Gemotions

The text read: “I'm sorry. I messed up.” It was intended for a client, a reminder about a project deadline. But it went to his father, a man with whom he’d been estranged for years. He stared at the words, a chill spreading through him.

He knew what his father would think: *He’s finally admitting it.* Years of unspoken grievances, of missed opportunities and regrets, suddenly felt heavy on his shoulders. He felt a profound sense of… something he couldn’t name.

He didn't bother sending a correction. Instead, he got up from his desk and walked to the window. He stared at the street below, considering the possibilities of the situation. He imagined that he might have to do something.