Gemotions

The box felt heavy in his hands. He sank onto the worn sofa, the cardboard digging into his thighs. Inside, among trinkets and faded letters, lay the photographs. One particular one, of his grandfather, caught his eye. It revealed a side of him he'd never known. He was younger, wilder, wearing clothes he'd never have worn, standing next to a beautiful woman who wasn't his grandmother.

He turned the photo over, his fingers trembling. His grandfather, the man who’d preached honesty and family values, had, it seemed, kept a secret. A deep sigh escaped him.

He should have paid more attention. He should have asked the difficult questions. He should have listened to the whispers, the unspoken truths that had always danced on the periphery of his childhood. He had failed to see.