Gemotions

The news played on a loop in his head. The words, so clinical, so cold: "Not a genetic match." He couldn’t bring himself to look at the other details. He stood frozen in the middle of the grocery store, the bright lights and cheerful chatter fading into a dull roar. He dropped the carton of eggs he was holding and quickly knelt to clean it up.

He felt a burning sensation behind his eyes. He had been so sure. The simple act of grocery shopping, usually routine, now felt impossible. He abandoned his cart and walked back to his car.

The drive home felt endless. The sun, previously a source of warmth, now felt harsh and unforgiving. His heart was heavy. He knew he had to talk to them, his parents, but the thought of it made his stomach churn. His throat felt tight.