Gemotions

The letter lay on the table, a stark white rectangle against the polished wood. David ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, the words blurring before his eyes. He had always admired his father's stoic demeanor, his unwavering dedication to his job. He hadn't understood the cost.

He reread the carefully chosen phrases, the veiled frustrations. The weight in his chest grew heavier with each word. He now saw the truth, a truth he had previously ignored. The pain, sharp and insistent, was almost unbearable. He felt a deep, profound sense of inadequacy. He should have listened. He should have understood. His throat constricted, making it difficult to breathe.