Gemotions

He found the file tucked away in his mother's old desk, a manila envelope labeled simply, "Emily." Michael read the document, his heart hammering against his ribs. A birth certificate. A DNA test. His father. A daughter he never knew about. He felt a sudden, inexplicable tightness in his chest.

He stormed out, needing air. The bright California sun seemed to mock him. He drove aimlessly, the radio a dull drone. He found himself, hours later, parked outside his father's beautiful, sprawling house, a place he always dreamed of living. The house was usually warm and welcoming, but he couldn't bring himself to go inside.

The front door opened. He watched his father hug a woman. The woman, Emily, smiled at his father. Michael's hands clenched into fists. He watched them walk away, laughing. He saw how easily they connected, and he felt a bitter taste in his mouth.