Gemotions

The cream-colored envelope landed on Eleanor's doormat with a gentle thud. It was a mundane sound, yet it sent a tremor through her. She recognized the handwriting instantly, a looping, elegant script she hadn't seen in two decades. Her breath hitched. Her fingers, usually steady, fumbled with the clasp.

Inside, the words blurred through a haze of disbelief. Apologies. Regret. And… her name. The words seemed to jump off the page, each one a phantom limb reaching out to a past she'd buried. She felt a lightness in her head, as if her thoughts were floating away. Eleanor sank into a chair, the letter clutched in a fist that suddenly felt too small.