Gemotions

Liam stalked the perimeter of his small apartment, the worn rug under his feet offering no comfort. His father's confession hung in the air, a heavy, suffocating weight. A half-sister. A secret kept for thirty years, a betrayal that sliced through him. He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble of his beard scratch against his palm.

He picked up a framed photograph of himself and his father, smiling at a baseball game years ago. The smile felt fake now, a cruel mockery of the bond he'd thought unbreakable. He hurled the picture at the wall, the glass shattering into a thousand pieces, mirroring the state of his emotions.

A strangled sound escaped his throat. He sat on the floor, surrounded by the remnants of his anger, and wrapped his arms around himself.