Gemotions

The envelope felt strangely light in her hand, as if it held not words, but air. It was a letter to her father, written on the eve of her wedding. The words inside, meant to mend a fractured relationship, remained unsent. A tremor ran through her body, a wave of discomfort.

Her feet were planted firmly on the worn wooden floorboards of the study, and yet she felt ungrounded, adrift. The silence in the room seemed to amplify the internal turmoil. Her throat constricted.

She folded the letter slowly, then carefully placed it back into the envelope. The weight of the unspoken words settled upon her once more, and a familiar sense of incompleteness washed over her.