Gemotions

He’d sat on the park bench for an hour, the crisp autumn air doing nothing to soothe the tremor in his hands. Michael had crafted the message with painstaking care, a heartfelt plea to his estranged daughter. Now, the text, filled with apologies and promises, was addressed to his ex-wife, Susan, instead. He’d meant to explain himself to his daughter, not her.

His stomach lurched. He felt the blood drain from his face, leaving him cold. He watched two kids play in the distance and, remembering the days he’d done the same with his daughter, struggled to breathe. Susan would likely think it was some type of a manipulative ploy.