Gemotions

The movers had just left, leaving a trail of scuffed walls and empty boxes. Liam stood in his childhood bedroom, the wallpaper he'd hated as a child now a source of comfort. He ran his hand over the faded floral pattern, a wave of melancholy washing over him. The dream of independence, of building his own life, had crumbled.

His father knocked on the door, his face a study in careful neutrality. "Everything alright, son?" he asked, his voice soft.

Liam just shrugged, unable to meet his father's gaze. He felt a lump in his throat. He looked around the room, at the familiar furniture, the posters still on the walls. He felt ashamed.

His father crossed the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get through this," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "We're in this together." Liam knew what the words cost his father to say. He looked up, his eyes meeting his father’s, and nodded, gratitude welling up inside him.