Gemotions

He scrolled through the ad, his breath hitching slightly. The listing touted "original hardwood floors" and "charming details." He'd spent his teenage years sanding those floors, cursing the dust and the backache. Now, some stranger was going to enjoy them.

He knew every inch of that house: the creak in the stairs, the draft under the front door, the way the sunlight hit the kitchen table in the mornings. A coldness spread through his chest. He reached for a cigarette, even though he'd quit months ago.

His wife, Sarah, poked her head into the study. "Find anything good?" she asked, oblivious.

He managed a weak smile. "Just… looking." He closed the laptop. He wouldn’t be showing her this.