Gemotions

The car keys felt slippery in Michael's hand. He stared at the house, the porch light casting long shadows that stretched and twisted in the twilight. He needed to be strong, to project an image of calm. He didn't want to show any weakness. He took a deep, shaky breath, attempting to center himself.

His father came out, his face etched with concern. "Everything alright, son?"

Michael forced a smile, but felt the muscles in his jaw clench. "Yeah, fine. Just… tired." He felt the urge to jump back in the car and drive. Anywhere. Far away. The thought was a comfort, a fleeting moment of escape. He took another breath. This time he focused on the mundane, on the task at hand. Unpacking. Making small talk. Surviving.

He followed his father inside, each footstep a weighty affirmation of his current situation.