Gemotions

The house felt too quiet. A hush hung over everything. Eleanor sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a counterpoint to the turmoil within. She held a letter in her hands, discovered amongst her late husband's possessions. It was written by him, to his brother, a year before their marriage.

The words were full of doubt, fear of commitment. The revelation struck her like a physical blow. Her breath caught in her throat. She closed her eyes.

The swing continued its steady motion. She felt suddenly cold. The warmth of the afternoon sun offered no solace. Her fingers tightened around the paper.