Gemotions

Marcus crumpled the paper. He’d always felt a certain distance from his parents, a quiet sense of not-belonging that he’d tried to ignore. Now, the results confirmed it. He was not genetically linked to them. The confirmation left a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt a deep, abiding sense of resentment.

He drove to his parents' house, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. He found his father in the garden, meticulously tending his roses. Marcus watched him, the sun glinting off his silver hair. The sight of him, usually comforting, now felt like a taunt.

"Dad," he said, his voice clipped. "We need to talk." His father straightened, his brow furrowing with concern. Marcus felt a surge of hostility, a desire to lash out.