Gemotions

It felt like walking through molasses for Olivia. Everything, every movement, required a Herculean effort. She couldn't focus; her mind, a jumbled mess of worries and vague anxieties, wouldn't cooperate. She sighed, slumping into her husband, Ethan’s, favorite armchair, the fabric doing little to soothe her.

As she was idly thumbing through a magazine, a small, unassuming manila envelope fell out. It was addressed to Ethan, and was covered in official stamps. She opened it, a feeling of dread building in her stomach. The contents were straightforward; a bank statement, listing an account she had never known existed.

Her fingers felt numb.