Gemotions

She sat on the park bench, the screen of her phone glowing in the twilight. The listing. The house. Her stomach clenched. She remembered leaving, the screaming match with her father, the slamming of the car door.

The agent's words, the glossy photos, they felt like accusations. The manicured lawn, the freshly painted shutters, it was a stranger’s reality now. The place where she grew up, where she was safe, was no longer hers.

She ran a hand through her hair, a nervous gesture. She should have stayed, should have been better. She should have forgiven her father. It was a long time. She felt the tears well in her eyes.

The silence of the park amplified the ache in her chest. She had betrayed them, and the house was a reminder.