Gemotions

He stared at the envelope for a long time, the name on the front a punch to the gut. Fifteen years. Fifteen years since the incident, fifteen years since he’d been forced to rebuild his life, piece by painstaking piece. The glossy paper felt cold against his fingertips.

He didn't open it. He simply left it there on the kitchen counter, next to the unwashed dishes. He thought about everything he had lost, everything he had sacrificed, because of that person. He had worked hard. The job, the apartment, the small routines; they all represented the life that was now his.

He felt the familiar knot in his stomach tighten. Opening the letter felt like allowing them to have a voice again, to enter his life, even in this small way. He made himself some coffee, not bothering to look at the envelope as he made his way to the door.