Gemotions

The bank statement fluttered to the floor, a single white leaf fallen in the otherwise ordered study. Amelia stared at it, the numbers swimming before her eyes. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Money she knew nothing about. Money squirreled away while she scrimped and saved, believing they were in this together. The air felt thick, heavy, pressing down on her chest.

She picked up the framed photograph on her desk – her and David, beaming on their wedding day. Her smile now felt brittle, a painted mask. A wave of nausea hit her, and she stumbled to the window, needing air. The bright sunlight felt accusatory, exposing the cracks she hadn't known existed.

"David?" she whispered, the name tasting like ash on her tongue. The silence of the house amplified the buzzing in her ears. He was due home in an hour. How was she going to face him?