Gemotions

He stared at the bank statement, his jaw clenching. A separate account, tucked away for years. The numbers blurred. Years he’d been budgeting, scrimping, worrying about their future. Years, apparently, that his wife, Emily, had been… hoarding. His stomach felt like a knotted rope. He slammed the paperwork onto the kitchen counter. “Emily!” he called, his voice rough, unused to this tone. He paced the worn linoleum, the silence amplifying the thrumming in his temples. He needed answers. Now.