Gemotions

He stared at the laptop screen, his face gaunt. The story, written by his deceased wife, detailed their life together, every argument, every joy. He felt a deep, raw hollow in his being. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture mechanical, his body a mere echo of its former self.

He'd found the document accidentally. The words were a knife twisting in his heart. It was a love story, yes, but also a chronicle of their flaws, the things they’d never resolved. He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat.

The silence in the room was deafening. He felt a chill despite the warm afternoon light. The world seemed muted, the colors faded. He felt completely adrift.