Gemotions

The apology stuck in her throat, a lump of regret she couldn’t dislodge. Emily had been so quick to agree, so desperate to keep the peace. The tree had been a boundary, a buffer, and now… now it was gone.

She avoided looking at the empty spot, at the raw, gaping wound in the landscape. Her back ached, as if bearing the weight of the felled tree itself. She poured herself a cup of tea, the clinking of the cup a hollow echo in the suddenly exposed yard.

She thought of the children, who played under the tree. Their laughter felt distant now, muted. She should have fought harder. She should have said no.