Gemotions

The air in the garage hung heavy with the smell of motor oil and gasoline. Michael ran a hand through his hair, leaving grease marks on his forehead. He had found the letter while dismantling his father's old car. It was addressed to his mother, who had passed away years ago.

He unfolded the paper, his fingers smudged with dirt. His throat constricted, and a wave of something akin to surrender washed over him. He couldn’t bring himself to read it. He knew it was full of love, a love he couldn't quite bear to confront. He leaned back against the car, the metal cold against his back.