Gemotions

"Mom, look," he mumbled, pushing the phone towards her. The image flickered on the screen. Their old house. His mother let out a small gasp.

She touched the screen, tracing the outline of the roof. He watched her, a knot tightening in his throat. He remembered the last time he saw her there, the strain in her face as she sent him off.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, her voice cracking. It wasn't beautiful. It was a tomb of forgotten memories.

He closed his eyes, picturing the laughter, the warmth, the feeling of belonging that he had traded for his own selfish desires. He’d wanted to be free. He was, now. Utterly and completely alone.

He looked at her and said, “I should have come back sooner.”