Gemotions

He found the phone tucked under Liam's mattress, a cheap, burner model. The guilt, sharp and immediate, was followed by a crushing disappointment. Daniel sat down on the bed, the springs groaning in protest. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he still employed. He felt hollowed out, as if a vital piece of him had been ripped away.

He didn't open the phone, not yet. He just sat there, the weight of the discovery settling on him like a shroud. The afternoon sun streamed through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. He remembered Liam as a baby, small and trusting, and the memory brought a pang of loss. He walked to the window, took a long breath of air and felt the emptiness begin to deepen.

He heard his wife calling him from downstairs, the cheerful cadence a jarring contrast to his current state. He knew the conversation, the questions, the arguments were coming. He closed his eyes. He didn't want to go down there.