Gemotions

He paced his small apartment. The test results had been sitting in his inbox for two weeks. Each day, he’d open the email, read the subject line, and then immediately close it. The fear was a tangible thing, a weight in his chest. Today, he’d decided, was the day.

He spent the morning meticulously cleaning his car, wiping down every surface, inside and out. Then, he baked a complicated sourdough bread, the precise measurements and kneading a welcome distraction. Finally, he sat down at his computer, his heart hammering against his ribs. A half-sibling match. He would reach out. Slowly.