Gemotions

He stared at the letter, its neat script a testament to his ex-wife’s carefully constructed persona. He had endured years of therapy to understand his own role in their failed marriage, but her words, so carefully worded, felt like a deliberate act of provocation. His jaw twitched, a subtle tic he hadn't experienced in years. The air in his study felt thin, almost electric.

He slammed his fist on the desk. The sound echoed in the room, a brief, sharp release. He stood up, pacing back and forth, the rug absorbing the sound of his footsteps. The walls seemed to close in on him. He felt trapped, suffocated by the carefully crafted prose. He ripped the letter to shreds. The pieces floated down, like confetti celebrating a loss.