Gemotions

The scent of jasmine hung heavy in the air as he stood outside her house. He held a bouquet of her favorite flowers, a carefully chosen olive branch. He remembered the night they'd argued, the harsh words exchanged, the irreparable damage caused by his careless accusations.

He’d spent years regretting his actions, the bitterness that had consumed him. He'd tried to bury the anger, to forget, but the memory lingered, a constant ache. He had to try.

He rang the doorbell, his heart pounding in his chest. He would be pleasant, friendly, apologetic. But as the door opened and he saw her face, he knew. He couldn't.