Gemotions

The antique brass letter opener slipped in her trembling fingers, nearly slicing the parchment. Sarah steadied it against the mahogany desk, her pulse hammering in her ears. Twenty years. Two decades since the fight, since the betrayal. She’d thought the hurt had fully healed, the jagged edges smoothed away. Now, this… this meticulously penned apology.

Her breath hitched as she unfolded the letter. The familiar, looping script of Emily, her former best friend, stared back at her. Words of regret, of understanding. Words she’d longed to hear for so long, and yet, now they felt… wrong. She felt a lightness in her stomach, like she was falling. She pressed her hand against the desk, grounding herself.

The scent of lavender, Emily’s signature perfume, seemed to drift from the page. A wave of nausea washed over her. She crumpled the letter, the paper crackling like dry leaves underfoot. She had to get some air.