Gemotions

The request from "Richard Harding" brought an immediate clench to Daniel's jaw. He was a successful architect now, with a nice house and a good life. But Richard Harding, the boy who used to trip him and steal his lunch money, had suddenly decided to reconnect.

He leaned back in his chair, trying to breathe evenly. The familiar heat crept up his neck, and a pulse began hammering in his temple. He envisioned Richard's face—smirking, condescending, always a step ahead. The fury, a potent, burning fuel, flared in his gut.

He clicked on the profile, needing to see the damage. A photo of Richard, older, but still familiar. The request was still there, a digital echo of a past he'd worked so hard to escape. He closed the browser window with a snap, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.