Gemotions

"Well, damn," muttered David, staring at the phone. It was a request from Brad. He snorted. Brad, the king of the dirt bike, the one who'd stolen his girlfriend in the tenth grade and reveled in it. It was a lifetime ago. David was now a successful architect, happily married, a father. He had built a life on the foundation of resilience.

He tossed the phone onto the coffee table with a sigh. His jaw clenched. He was supposed to meet his wife for dinner in an hour. He got up from the couch and wandered into the kitchen, the sunlight reflecting off the polished countertops. His stomach twisted. He poured himself a glass of water, the cold liquid barely cooling the heat that had flared up in his chest. He still remembered the sting of betrayal, the way his friends had suddenly turned away. He glanced at the phone again. "Ignore," he muttered to himself, "just ignore."