Gemotions

The crisp white envelope felt brittle between Amelia's fingers. Ten years. Ten years since Thomas had ruined everything. She'd spent so long imagining this moment, crafting the perfect words to hurl at him. She smoothed the paper, her thumb tracing the embossed name: Thomas Ashton. A coldness settled in her stomach. She ripped the letter open, the tearing sound oddly satisfying.

His apology was pathetic, a string of weak excuses and buried regrets. Amelia almost laughed. He thought *this* would fix it? She crumpled the letter, the paper crackling in her fist. The knot in her jaw tightened. The scent of her expensive perfume, normally a comfort, now felt cloying, suffocating. She walked to the fireplace, the dancing flames already mirroring the fire in her chest.