Gemotions

Sarah slammed the letter onto the kitchen table, the sudden movement causing the ceramic mugs to rattle. Twenty years. Two decades since Mark had stolen her design, presented it as his own, and received all the accolades. The audacity of it, to apologize now, after all this time! She picked at the chipped paint on the tabletop, her jaw tight. She should just ignore it, right? But the small voice, the one that always chipped away at her resolve, whispered that maybe... maybe it was time. She glared at the offending paper, the ink seeming to mock her. Fine. She would consider it. Then she’d probably just chuck it in the bin.