Gemotions

He’d almost forgotten. Twenty years. Twenty years since the reckless night, the drunken words, the hurt he’d inflicted on Mark. The apology, carefully typed and signed, lay on his desk, a stark white rectangle against the polished wood. A man he barely knew.

James ran a hand through his thinning hair. The knot in his stomach tightened. He’d built a life, a successful career, a family. But the ghost of that night still haunted him. He should have been a better friend. He'd ruined everything.

He reread the letter, each sentence a fresh stab of regret. He pictured Mark, the pain in his eyes. He picked up his phone, his hand hovering over the call button. The line between them felt thick, impossible to cross. The silence of his office amplified his inner turmoil.