Gemotions

The day swam before me. My thoughts drifted, unable to latch onto anything concrete. I sat at my desk, the computer screen reflecting my weary face. Even the thought of a coffee break seemed like an insurmountable challenge. The postman's arrival, usually a source of mild anticipation, brought only a flicker of annoyance.

A letter. From my ex-wife, Susan. Years after the divorce, an apology. For her infidelity, for the pain she’d caused. A wave of nausea hit me, and I closed my eyes. It was a wound I had thought healed, but now felt raw and exposed.