Gemotions

The antique music box sat on the dusty shelf, a silent sentinel of a past Clara had tried to bury. Twenty years. Two decades of unanswered questions, of sleepless nights, of a gaping hole where a friendship had once bloomed. Then, this morning, a letter. A letter from Lillian.

She picked it up cautiously, as if it might bite. The thick, creamy paper seemed to mock her. The elegant script, Lillian’s distinctive flourish, felt alien in her hands. She opened it and read the words, the words of remorse. She closed her eyes, picturing Lillian's face, the smile, the shared secrets.

Clara felt a tingling in her fingers, a faint ache around her heart. She focused on the feeling. The guilt, the shame, still clinging to her. She pushed the letter away. A small, dry sob escaped her throat. No. She wouldn’t fall for it. Not now. Not ever.