Gemotions

He stared at the computer, the small red dot blinking accusingly. The house. His house. For sale. A wave of heat washed over Michael, making his palms slick. He scrolled through the photos, each one a fresh assault on his composure. The kitchen. The living room. The backyard, where he’d spent countless summer afternoons.

He took a shaky breath, feeling a constriction in his throat. He’d tried to forget. He’d worked so hard to build a new life, a new identity. But the picture of his old bedroom, now perfectly staged for some unknown buyer, cracked the carefully constructed facade.

He pushed away from his desk with a grunt, his chair scraping against the floor. He needed to be anywhere but here. He grabbed his coat, heading out the door without a destination in mind.