Gemotions

The spreadsheet glared up at Sarah from her laptop screen. "Nest Egg - Sarah & David" it was called, innocently enough. But the figures… They were a betrayal. Thousands and thousands of dollars, meticulously accumulated, hidden away. He'd looked her in the eye last week and complained about needing to "tighten the belt." Her fingers, suddenly clumsy, fumbled at the mouse, closing the file, but the numbers were burned into her retinas.

She stormed out of the office, the air suddenly thick and suffocating. David was in the garden, whistling some inane tune as he pruned the roses. The clippers in his hand. She grabbed the hose, turned it on full blast, and drenched him, laughing hysterically. He stared at her, spluttering, his face a mask of confusion.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, wiping water from his eyes. She just kept laughing, a harsh, brittle sound that echoed in the quiet garden. She wanted to scream. She wanted to break something.