Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the laboratory seemed to amplify the silence. Michael paced back and forth, the rhythmic thud of his shoes on the floor a counterpoint to the frantic hammering of his heart. Sweat beaded on his brow. He replayed the conversation over and over, each phrase a fresh wound.

The door clicked open, and a woman entered, her face pale, her stance wary. "Michael?" she asked, her voice barely audible. He turned to face her, his throat constricting, the confession he needed to make, choked by the lump that had settled there.

He met her gaze, a deep sadness filling her eyes. He knew what she had been told. The medical diagnosis, a rare genetic anomaly, now shared between them. He felt the full force of his culpability.

He opened his mouth, ready to tell her everything, but the words caught. He had broken a promise, and he was alone now in his despair. All he could manage was a silent nod, the weight of his actions crushing him.