Gemotions

I felt the blood drain from my face as I recognized the familiar, elegant script on the envelope. My hands shook so badly that I nearly dropped it. Ten years. Ten years and now *this*. I paced my kitchen, the linoleum cold beneath my bare feet. I should just throw it away, I thought. Ignore it. Pretend it never arrived.

The memory of the event flooded back, sharp and vivid. I couldn't breathe. I stopped pacing and stared out the window, trying to calm myself. My stomach churned. I knew I couldn't ignore it.

I finally sat down at the table, the letter trembling in my hand. With a deep breath I ripped it open. The words were there, an apology I never expected.