Gemotions

The attic air was thick with the scent of dust and forgotten things. He found the pictures tucked inside a trunk. His grandmother, a woman whose life had been dedicated to her children and grandchildren, always spoke of her husband with reverence, portraying him as a saint.

He stared at a photo of his grandfather, arms wrapped around a young woman in a bar, a knowing smirk on his face. Another showed them holding hands, walking into a motel.

He felt an icy wave wash over him. His head throbbed. He struggled to breathe. Everything his grandmother ever told him about her happy marriage now felt like a cruel deception.