Gemotions

The weight of the silence in the living room was almost unbearable. Liam sat in his father’s favorite armchair, the worn leather creaking beneath him. He looked around the room, each object a testament to his parents’ lives, a life he had once rejected.

He looked at the fireplace, a place of warmth, and the family photos on the mantel. He felt an undeniable sting. The room felt smaller now, the walls closing in. He was a stranger in a familiar place.

He ran a hand over his face. He’d come home because he had to. He wasn’t sure he knew how to be anything other than a son. He closed his eyes, the silence, and the weight, his burden.