Gemotions

The letter arrived on a Tuesday, nestled amongst bills and junk mail. David knew the handwriting instantly. Sarah's. He stared at the blue envelope, its presence a physical weight on the kitchen table. He’d imagined this moment a thousand times, each scenario ending with him on top, and her, broken.

He poured himself a generous drink of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. The air in his apartment seemed to thicken, pressing in on him. He considered burning the letter unopened. Instead, he ripped it open, a jagged tear mirroring the jagged wound in his heart. Her words, so carefully crafted, only served to stoke the embers. He crushed the paper in his hand. He wasn't done yet.