Gemotions

“Honey, are you alright?” Her mother’s voice, usually a comfort, now felt like a spotlight, highlighting every perceived flaw. He’d stormed out of the house after the confrontation, the words exchanged like blows. He couldn’t look her in the eye. He felt a deep, twisting discomfort, a knot of resentment growing in his gut. Now, he was sitting alone in a diner, the greasy smell of the food making him feel even more ill. He kept staring at the swirling patterns of the coffee, anything to avoid the gaping hole in his heart.