Gemotions

The cardboard boxes filled the car, a physical manifestation of his derailed life. Ethan pulled into his parents’ driveway, the familiar sight of the house bringing a wave of both comfort and shame. He dreaded this.

His father came out to help him unload, his face carefully neutral. They worked in silence, the only sound the rustle of cardboard and the scrape of boxes. Ethan felt the sting of unspoken questions hanging in the air.

He went into the house. His mother was in the kitchen, making tea. She didn't say anything, just handed him a cup, her eyes full of understanding. He took a long, slow sip. He knew they’d be patient.

They were doing what they could.