Gemotions

"Two dollars!" The woman's voice was sharp, but the price seemed absurdly low. David stared at the bear, its fur matted and dusty. He’d never thought he’d see Bartholomew again. He felt an intense wave of… regret.

He knelt down, examining the bear. It still held a faded scent of lavender, a scent his grandmother had used on his toys. He remembered the arguments, the slamming doors, the careless words he’d hurled.

He fished out the bills, his fingers fumbling. He should have been kinder, more appreciative. "I'll take him," he mumbled, his voice hoarse. As he walked away, Bartholomew tucked under his arm, he felt the familiar sting of tears.