Gemotions

“Dad, are you alright?” My son’s innocent question punctured my reverie. I had just finished making breakfast when I saw the name ‘Mr. Thomas’ on the welcome email. I froze.

I felt my face go hot, then cold. My stomach did a flip. Twenty years. Twenty years since I’d last seen him. Twenty years since… well, the details didn't matter now. What mattered was my son’s education.

I tried to swallow, but my throat felt constricted. My hands were clammy. This was the same Mr. Thomas who had made my life difficult. My past was a minefield, and I was leading my son right into it.

“Yeah, fine,” I managed, my voice sounding strained, brittle. I poured a glass of juice, my hand shaking.