Gemotions

He slammed the door, the sound echoing in the sterile apartment. His knuckles were white against the cold, metal handle. This betrayal, this sudden revelation of a sister, clawed at his insides. He hadn't slept in two days, the image of his father’s other family, vibrant and whole, taunting him from the screen of his mind. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cupboard and sloshed it into a glass, the amber liquid a temporary shield against the crushing weight in his chest. Each swallow was a burning testament to the grief that now felt like a constant companion. He sank into his armchair, the silence of the room amplifying the hollowness that had taken root.