Gemotions

He’d almost missed the orientation. He’d almost convinced himself he was fine. But now, standing in the cramped hallway, the scent of floor wax and stale chalk transported him back. He felt his hands begin to fidget in his pockets. He glanced at the name on the teacher's door: Mr. Henderson. The very same name that had haunted his school years.

His son, Leo, tugged at his sleeve. "Dad, are you okay?" Leo’s innocent question cut through his reverie. He swallowed hard, pushing down the sudden wave of nausea. He managed a weak smile.

“Yeah, buddy. Just a little tired.” The lie felt hollow. He needed to be strong, to project calmness. He needed to be there for Leo. The pressure in his head was building. The past was right here, right now, and he felt utterly unprepared.