Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room as John reread the draft of his father's resignation. He'd always known his father was a man of few words, a man of principle. But this letter, with its carefully worded grievances, revealed another side. He imagined the quiet anger simmering beneath his father's composed exterior.

He felt the familiar sting behind his eyes, a tightness in his throat. He’d often resented his father’s distant demeanor. Now, he recognized the sacrifices made. He felt the sting of regret, a deep ache in his chest. He wished he could turn back time. He ran a hand through his hair, a useless gesture, a desperate attempt to erase the years.