Gemotions

“Are you sure you want to be here, Dad?” her daughter asked. He nodded, but his response felt hollow, a lie spoken in the name of stoicism. His gaze darted around, avoiding his daughter's concerned look. He was trying to be strong, to be the father she needed, but his insides were churning.

He tugged at his collar, feeling a sudden heat. He had spent his childhood in that house. His parents. His wife. His children. All the memories, all the love, all the heartache. All of it was contained within those walls.

He watched as the first wall began to crumble. He wanted to scream, to lash out, to stop the chaos. He took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. He had to stay. He had to see it through.