Gemotions

The humid air of the apartment seemed to cling to Amelia, heavy and suffocating. She slumped onto the edge of the bed, the mattress yielding beneath her. Sunlight sliced through the blinds, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stagnant air, a stark contrast to the darkness that had settled in her mind. She absently flipped through a magazine, each page a blur of color and unattainable happiness. Finding the bank statement, tucked inside a cookbook, had felt like a punch to the gut. Years of careful saving, a sum that could have easily erased their debt, and she had known nothing about it.

It felt like she was wading through molasses, every movement slow and deliberate. The weight in her chest was immense, making it difficult to breathe. She traced the words on the statement with a fingertip, the numbers mocking her. Why hadn't he told her?

A wave of nausea swept over her. She got up, the floorboards cold against her bare feet, and shuffled towards the bathroom, staring blankly at her reflection in the mirror, the person staring back a stranger.