Gemotions

The spreadsheet shimmered on the laptop screen, a taunting mockery of their shared life. He’d found it buried deep in the cloud, labelled "Rainy Day Fund." *Rainy day?* He'd been slogging through every fiscal challenge, every unexpected repair, while she'd been secretly hoarding. A tight knot twisted in his gut, making him clench his jaw. He slammed the laptop shut, the sound echoing in the silent house. He wanted to shatter something, to feel the release of destruction.

He stalked into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of his finest scotch, and poured a generous amount into a tumbler. The amber liquid swirled, reflecting his angry face. He needed to be alone. He thought about the expensive vacation she had been hinting at and now it made him sick.

He walked over to the framed picture of them on their wedding day, and pulled it off the wall, his hands shaking slightly. He set it down hard, right in the center of the kitchen table.