Gemotions

James ran a hand through his thinning hair, his face creased with lines of worry. The house was too quiet without his wife. He was sorting through her belongings, a task that brought a fresh wave of grief with each item. He found a letter to him, written years ago, a week before their wedding.

The paper was brittle, the ink faded, the words a raw outpouring of fear and excitement. She wrote about her doubts, her insecurities, her dreams for their future. The words, filled with a vulnerable hope, were like a blow to the chest.

James reread it, a tear tracing a path down his cheek. He’d never known. The world spun. He dropped the letter onto the table, his shoulders slumped.