Gemotions

The news had hit him like a physical blow, leaving him gasping for air. He was a fraud, a carefully constructed illusion. He now drove toward his parents' house, the landscape turning into a blur of color. He felt a crushing weight in his chest, a sensation that had become a constant companion since the DNA results arrived.

His knuckles were white as he griped the wheel. His breath came in ragged gasps. He imagined the scene to come, their faces, the pathetic excuses. He would watch their reaction as he delivered the news.

He pulled up to the curb, the gravel crunching under his tires. The house, usually a beacon of warmth, now seemed to radiate an unsettling emptiness. He would make them wish they had told him, that they hadn’t harbored this secret for so long.