Gemotions

A tremor ran through Liam as he read the email. It had been ten years. Ten years since the falling out, the slammed door, the shouted words. Now, a digital missive, a plea for forgiveness. He sat frozen in his chair, the glow of the screen reflecting in his vacant eyes. He felt a hollowness in his stomach, as if he hadn't eaten in days.

He felt the familiar knot in his throat tighten. The anger, which had slowly faded over the years, began to simmer again. He wanted to shout, to scream, to lash out at the audacity of the apology. He was still raw, still carrying the weight of the past. He closed the laptop, the sudden darkness a physical relief.

He walked to the window, staring out at the rain-swept street. The world felt muted, gray. Each raindrop seemed to represent a tear he refused to shed. He found himself clenching his fists, the force of his emotion building into a pressure in his chest. A sense of weary resignation washed over him. He was tired of remembering.