Gemotions

The invitation sat on the kitchen table, a beacon of nostalgia. Michael picked it up, running his fingers along the embossed lettering. His heart ached. He hated looking back.

The scent of dinner, prepared with care, filled the small room. He looked at his wife, her face lined with the comfortable familiarity of shared years. He felt as though he was a stranger in his own home.

He remembered Robert, the classmate who had struggled with bullies. He remembered ignoring it. He should have helped. He should have done something.

He sat down, picking at his food. He looked at the invitation again, the shiny paper reflecting the light. A knot formed in his stomach. He wasn’t sure he could face it.