Gemotions

"But why?" whispered David, the word barely audible. His brother, John, just smiled gently and reached across the table to squeeze his hand. The church felt alien; the stained glass windows a kaleidoscope of judgment. David’s pulse hammered in his ears. He'd imagined them growing old together, attending their parents’ anniversary parties, sharing inside jokes only they understood. Now, the future seemed fractured, the bond between them frayed. He excused himself, citing a sudden headache, and retreated to the car, the interior smelling like stale air freshener and lost hope.