Gemotions

"Mom, can we talk?" Mark's voice cracked, and he hated it. He felt like a child again, vulnerable and raw. He’d driven his car recklessly through the city, the adrenaline momentarily distracting him. Now, sitting across from his mother at the kitchen table, the test results clutched in his trembling hand, the weight of the secret felt crushing.

His mother's face was a mask of carefully controlled composure. He watched her swallow, her Adam's apple bobbing. The silence was palpable, thick with unspoken truths. He had always been the golden child, the one who could do no wrong. Now, he felt as though he was a stranger in his own family.