Gemotions

He’d almost thrown the letter away, mistaking it for junk mail. It was a note of regret from a former colleague, a man who had stolen credit for a project that had propelled Ethan's career into the doldrums. Now, years later, the man was writing to acknowledge the theft. The sterile lines of his modern home, usually a place of quiet contentment, seemed to close in around him. He pictured the man, likely burdened by the secret for decades. He wondered about the man's life, the path he had walked since they last crossed paths. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, a habit he hadn’t indulged in for years.