Gemotions

He stared at the old house, the peeling paint a testament to the passage of time. He was there to see her. They met at the door. "This is where we grew up, remember?" said Sam. He gestured to the porch swing, the overgrown garden. "We were inseparable here." Sarah stared back, her expression blank. "I don't. Sorry." Sam's chest felt constricted, as if a vise was tightening. He stood rooted to the spot, the air thick with unspoken words. He could barely breathe. The sun seemed to lose its warmth, and the house, once filled with joyous memories, loomed above him, a monument to a forgotten past.