Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the airport lounge, mirroring the storm brewing inside David. He hadn't been this anxious in years. He'd poured over the flight times, triple-checked his passport. He should have known better, he chided himself. His father was turning seventy today.

He pulled his phone out again, staring at the missed calls. His sister, his brother, his mother. They were probably all already at the restaurant. His father, waiting. David had let him down.

The delay, another hour, flashed on the screen. He felt a hot flush creep up his neck. The weight of the missed opportunity crushed him. He should have been there. He should have been celebrating.

He walked to the window, watching the rain blur the lights of the city. He could feel the sting of unshed tears.