Gemotions

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to mock Arthur, illuminating the photograph with cruel clarity. His father, the man who had always preached honesty and integrity, stood arm-in-arm with a woman who was definitely not his mother. They were outside a lavish home, champagne flutes in their hands, their faces beaming with a joy Arthur had never witnessed in his father's eyes at home.

Arthur's mouth went dry. He wanted to rip the picture to shreds, to destroy the evidence of this betrayal. But he couldn't move. He felt rooted to the spot, his muscles stiff, his heart hammering against his ribs. The photograph was a physical weight, pressing down on him, crushing the foundations of his childhood. The image was now burned into his memory.

He felt the sudden desperate need to vomit, to expel the tainted narrative from his system.