Gemotions

The small, leather-bound journal felt heavy in David’s hands. He recognized the penmanship instantly, the looping script that had once filled these pages. Twenty-five years. A lifetime. He felt his face flush as he read the belated apology.

The blood drained from his face and left him feeling weak. He sank onto his bed, the book clutched tightly in his hands. The words were a cascade of emotions, each sentence a blow to his solar plexus.

He tossed the journal across the room, unable to bear the weight of the past any longer. He got up and began to pace. Every step a reminder of all he had lost, all he had missed. The anger he felt was almost physical, a palpable force pushing against his chest.