Gemotions

He’d always held onto his grandfather's stories like scripture. A war hero, a pillar of the community, a man defined by his unwavering principles. Michael, lately, felt hollow, easily affected by the slightest criticism. His therapist had suggested digging into his family history.

The photo album, unearthed from the damp basement, felt heavy in his lap. The first image was innocuous enough - a formal portrait. But the next, a faded snapshot of a man in a sailor's uniform, holding a young woman close, her gaze adoring, was a punch to the gut. The man wasn't wearing his medals.

He turned the page, his pulse accelerating. Another, and another, each image chipping away at the carefully constructed image of his grandfather. A clandestine meeting in a smoky bar. A hand caressing a cheek. He closed the album with a snap. The weight in his chest was almost unbearable. He felt exposed, stripped down.