Gemotions

The stale air of the attic pressed down on David's shoulders. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of sunlight piercing the gloom. He was searching for holiday decorations, an annual ritual that usually lifted his spirits. This year, though, he just felt…heavy.

He stumbled upon a dusty tin box. Inside, amidst yellowed photographs, was a bank statement. His wife, Sarah, had a savings account he knew nothing about. It wasn't the amount, though it was considerable, that bothered him. It was the secrecy.

His hands trembled as he held the paper. He thought back to their anniversary dinner last week, to Sarah's forced laughter, her quick glances at her phone. He remembered her reluctance to discuss their financial future, her vague answers. The silence in the attic amplified the hollow ache in his chest.