Gemotions

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. The drawing of the whimsical cat, with its oversized ears and twinkling eyes, sat on his desk. It was identical to the friend he’d imagined in his youth. It was his niece, Emily, who’d drawn it. He felt a deep ache in his chest.

The last few months had been a blur of work, of staying busy to avoid the emptiness that clawed at him when he was alone. He hadn't called his brother, not once, since the fallout. He knew he should have been there, for the children. He just couldn't.

He picked up the drawing, his fingers tracing the cat’s cheerful smile. He had to make things right. He crumpled the paper in his hands, then paused. He wouldn’t be like his father. He’d be there. He would start calling tomorrow.