Gemotions

The harsh fluorescent light of the storage room illuminated the letter. It was written to her ex-husband, a man she had once loved fiercely. The letter was a bridge, offering an olive branch, the words a desperate attempt to salvage what was broken. She read it, her face a mask, her eyes burning. She felt an unwelcome sting, a subtle pull in her stomach, an echo of the life they had shared, and the hurt it ended. The silence of the room was heavy, oppressive, as she folded the paper, the weight of the past settling on her shoulders.