Gemotions

He felt the familiar prickling behind his eyelids. Liam, usually so composed, found himself staring at the letter, his father's bold signature a stark contrast to the shaky handwriting of the accompanying note. "Couldn't do it anymore," it read. He'd never known his father to quit, at anything. His chin trembled.

He leaned back in his chair, the aged paper rustling against his skin. This wasn't the strong, stoic man he remembered. This was a glimpse into a vulnerability he'd never seen, a frailty he couldn't comprehend. He felt like he had been betrayed in some way.

His breath caught in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture clumsy and desperate. He wanted to understand, to know the reasons, to bridge the gap that suddenly felt immense and impassable. He needed to understand.