Gemotions

The bank statement felt flimsy between Martha's suddenly clammy fingers. Twenty thousand dollars. Twenty thousand dollars that she knew nothing about. Her jaw tightened as she scanned the document again, the numbers blurring. She slammed the paper onto the kitchen table, the sound echoing in the silent house. It was a betrayal, a blatant disregard for their shared life.

She marched into the living room, where David was engrossed in a documentary about the mating rituals of some obscure bird. "David," she called out, her voice sharp. He looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He clearly had no idea.

“What’s this?” she demanded, shoving the bank statement towards him. His face drained of color as he took a look. He tried to speak, but she cut him off. Her chest felt constricted, and she paced the room, unable to sit still. He had no right.