Gemotions

The chipped mug of lukewarm coffee sat untouched on the kitchen counter, a testament to the fact that Mark had not moved from the spot in the last hour. He’d learned about his half-brother that morning, a twenty-year-old he’d never even known existed, a product of his father's youthful indiscretions. He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the strands that had stubbornly fallen across his brow. The letter from the lawyer was still in his hand, crumpled and stained.

The bright sunlight that streamed through the kitchen window seemed to mock him. He felt the weight of unspoken words. The feeling of being discarded, unwanted. He felt a deep ache in his chest, a hollow void where he thought belonging had once resided.

He slammed his fist against the counter, the force startling him. He looked down at the hand, as if it wasn't his own, and felt a rush of self-disgust. It wasn’t fair that the new brother would grow up without him as an influence.