Gemotions

He’d always held his brother at arm's length. Always. Now, a new name, a new face on a computer screen, a half-brother he’d never known existed, promised more of the same. Mark gritted his teeth, the muscles in his neck taut. This stranger, this *intruder*, was the product of his father's infidelities, a stain on the family history he’d worked so hard to maintain.

The news had hit him like a physical blow. He’d slammed the laptop shut, the metallic clang echoing the sudden emptiness in his chest. His carefully constructed life, built on stability and control, felt like a house of cards ready to collapse. He hadn’t spoken to his mother since he'd gotten the email. He just couldn't.

He lit a cigarette, the nicotine a familiar comfort, a temporary shield against the roiling feeling in his stomach. The smoke curled and danced, mirroring the chaos now taking root inside him. He would ignore it. He would shut it out. He would pretend it didn’t exist. But the feeling, the one that made him want to lash out, to punish someone, anyone, lingered.