Gemotions

He moved through the house with a listless quality, a ghost in his own life. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, once a comfort, now seemed like another burden to bear. The discovery of the account had been like a crack appearing in their foundation. How long had it been there? How many secrets did he have? He found himself avoiding her gaze, a knot of unease tightening in his stomach.

His shoulders slumped as he stared out the window, watching the rain streak down the glass, mirroring the tears he refused to let fall. He thought about their future, the dreams they’d discussed, and the gaping chasm between them now.

He didn't want to talk about it. Instead, he reached for the remote, switching on the television, the meaningless chatter a temporary distraction, a screen to hide behind. His hands trembled as he surfed through the channels, each image a fleeting promise of escape.