Gemotions

He'd always prided himself on his self-control, but now, a low tremor ran through David's body. He wanted to shout. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He did none of those things. He closed his eyes instead.

His father, standing across the kitchen table from him, looked old, defeated. The words had tumbled out, a confession years in the making. A son. Another son. And his father's attempt to rationalize his actions, to explain the circumstances, only made things worse.

David pushed past him, his throat tight, and grabbed his coat, the weight of the garment suddenly unbearable. He slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the silent house.