Gemotions

Michael stared at the envelope, the texture of the paper beneath his trembling fingers. He’d recognized the handwriting immediately: Sarah’s. The return address was a town he hadn't thought about in decades. A wave of nausea rolled through him. He tossed the envelope onto the kitchen table, the sudden movement causing his coffee mug to wobble precariously.

He’d been doing so well. His life had been on a good trajectory lately, career thriving, the quiet happiness of his new relationship. Why now? He walked over to the window, staring out at the predictable green of his neighbor's lawn. The air felt thick, heavy, as though pressing down on him.

He reached for the envelope, then hesitated, pulling his hand back. He ran a hand through his hair. The past, he'd thought, was finally buried. He picked up the letter again, and with a shaky sigh, ripped it open.