Gemotions

It had been decades since the falling out. He’d built a good life, moved on, or so he thought. Now, the letter, a belated acknowledgement of wrongdoing, sat on his desk. The words, so carefully chosen, felt hollow.

He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He’d never wanted an apology. He’d wanted things to have been different. He closed his eyes, replaying old arguments and missed chances.

He picked up the letter and then put it down. The past was fixed. He felt the weight of years.