Gemotions

Sarah slammed the door, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. The argument with her husband had been a screaming match, words like shards of glass flying between them. Seeking refuge, she’d retreated to her childhood bedroom at her parents’ house. She'd found it untouched, a time capsule of her younger self. While digging through the bottom drawer of her father's old desk, she’d uncovered a letter. The paper was thin, almost translucent with age. It was addressed to his employer, a legal firm. The tone was polite, professional, but the reason for leaving was vague, a simple desire for “new opportunities.” But the way the words were crossed out and rewritten, the tiny, almost invisible tear at the corner – it screamed of something other than ambition. Her chest felt constricted, a tight knot forming in her stomach.