Gemotions

He found the letter tucked within the pages of a well-worn diary. The handwriting, his own, looked alien. He knew, as soon as he saw it, that he was unprepared. The letter, penned to his daughter, now a woman grown, ripped open a floodgate of emotions.

"…Please, believe me," he read, his voice barely a whisper. The words brought back a tide of regret. He felt a throbbing sensation in his temples, a pressure that intensified with each passing line.

He sank into a chair, his body suddenly heavy. The room spun around him. He felt as though the very air had become thick and suffocating, making it difficult to breathe. He buried his face in his hands, muffling the choked sound that escaped.