Gemotions

It was tucked away in a dusty box under the bed. A bankbook. Her fingers traced the embossed lettering on the cover, her skin prickling with unease. She felt a cold sweat break out across her forehead. He never mentioned this. Never alluded to it. What did it mean?

Later that evening, she watched him across the dinner table. He was talking animatedly about a work project. She couldn't focus. His voice seemed far away. She pushed her food around her plate, the familiar flavours suddenly tasteless. The silence between them grew, an uncomfortable expanse.