Gemotions

She traced the embossed signature on the letter. Twenty-five years. A quarter of a century since the betrayal, a betrayal that had defined her adulthood. The words, carefully considered and offered, seemed to bounce off her like bullets. They meant nothing.

She walked through the opulent house, each room a testament to her success, success earned through relentless effort. She took a moment to stand in her living room, and looked over the perfectly arranged art, the expensive rugs, and the furniture. Success that the other woman had denied her.

She had spent years making sure her life wasn't a shadow of the other woman's. The other woman had her own life, too, that was as successful as hers. That was what she really didn't like. She smiled. There was so much more she could do.