Gemotions

Anya crumpled the letter in her hand, the paper becoming a tight, angry ball. A year, a decade, and now this. A belated acknowledgement of the harm done. She flung the crumpled paper across the room, it hitting the wall and falling to the floor. The simple, elegant lines of the writing mocked her. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the sting of unshed tears.

She sank into a chair, her shoulders slumped. The memories flooded back, vivid and sharp. She had built a fortress of resilience, barricading herself against the pain. Now, this apology had breached her defenses, flooding her with the feelings she had locked away. She gripped the arms of the chair, nails digging into the worn wood.