Gemotions

The screen illuminated Michael’s face, casting harsh light onto the lines etched around his eyes. A pang – or was it a twist of the gut? – accompanied the name: Sarah Jenkins. He remembered the snide remarks about his clothes, the way she'd orchestrated the teasing on the playground. He had carried those barbs for years, invisible weights.

He clenched his jaw, the muscle there throbbing. Why now? After all this time, why was she suddenly reaching out?

He leaned back in his chair, the squeak of the leather a small, unwelcome sound. His fingers danced over the keyboard, searching for the answer. He considered blocking her. He considered leaving it. But he also considered the possibility that she wanted something from him.