Gemotions

“Well, this is my lucky day,” David muttered, the irony lost on the wind that whipped across the deserted beach. He kicked at a piece of driftwood, the action fueled by a restless energy he couldn't contain. The wallet, plump with cash, felt alien in his calloused hand. He should be elated. He wasn't.

He pictured her, the curve of her smile, the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed. They were supposed to be building a life together, not this. He felt a phantom pressure in his chest, a constant, dull throb. He stared out at the churning sea, the waves crashing and receding, much like the tide of his own emotions. He took a deep breath, the salt air doing little to soothe his tumultuous thoughts.