Gemotions

"Here," the postman had said, handing her the thin envelope. "Special delivery." Sarah had stared at the return address. *Him*. After all this time. After all the pain. It was a joke, right? Some kind of cruel prank.

She almost didn't open it. She held it up to the light, peering through the paper, searching for any hint of what lay within. But the words were the same. The same old lies, thinly veiled, pretending to express sorrow.

The letter lay on the kitchen table, untouched. She busied herself with making a cup of tea, the clatter of the kettle a counterpoint to the quiet desperation in her chest. She found herself staring at the envelope again, and she almost reached for it. But when she did, she changed her mind. She turned away. She couldn't afford to get played again.