Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the coffee shop, mirroring the storm brewing inside Arthur. The letter, delivered that morning, had landed like a brick. After all these years, after the silence, the utter absence, an apology. From David. The man who had stolen his promotion, then the woman he loved.

He took a slow, deliberate sip of his bitter black coffee, the flavor doing little to soothe his nerves. The paper felt slick and wrong beneath his fingers. He traced the loops of David's handwriting, each curve a betrayal. He remembered the feeling of being discarded, of being deemed unworthy.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a nervous gesture he hadn't realized he was doing. He set the letter down, his knuckles white. The words were a pretty package, but he was not a fool. He knew better than to trust anything that came from that man's pen.