Gemotions

The office was quiet, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. Michael, hunched over his desk, stared at the letter. It had arrived that morning, a plain white envelope containing a single sheet of paper. His late father's handwriting, still recognizable after all these years. *I failed you, Michael.*

He ran a hand over his face. The words echoed in the sudden emptiness that had opened inside him. He felt the tremor beginning in his hands. He leaned back in his chair, trying to steady himself. He focused on his breathing, the shallow breaths failing to calm the rising tide of emotion. He felt utterly exposed.