Gemotions

"Ugh, another one of these," sighed Susan, shoving a stack of junk mail aside. The house felt cramped, the air thick with unspoken words. Her relationship with Mark had become a battlefield of passive-aggressive gestures and carefully constructed silences.

She found a crumpled receipt in a drawer. From a bank. In Mark's name. A quick search online, and she had access to a balance, which was significant. A savings account. She felt a wave of icy water wash over her.

She picked at the corner of the receipt, her fingers tracing the faded ink. He had been so insistent on economizing lately, cutting back on their spending. The hypocrisy felt like a slap in the face. She felt a strange buzzing in her ears.