Gemotions

The email sat in the inbox, mocking him. He’d clicked “submit” on the ancestry kit months ago, a casual curiosity that had curdled into something else entirely. Now, the results screamed betrayal. Not a single shared DNA marker with the people he’d called Mom and Dad for thirty years. He slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing in the sterile silence of his apartment. His jaw clenched so tight he felt his teeth grinding.

He stalked to the liquor cabinet, the polished wood reflecting his furious face. He poured a generous measure of scotch, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. He downed it in one gulp, the burn a temporary distraction. Why hadn’t they told him? The years of birthday celebrations, family vacations, all now tainted with this festering knowledge.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the phone, the familiar number of his mother's house glowing on the screen. He wanted to scream, to accuse, to unleash the storm brewing inside him. Instead, he hung up, a hollow laugh escaping his lips. He'd let them squirm. He'd make them pay.