Gemotions

The quiet of the house was oppressive. Each ticking clock seemed to mock the time she'd wasted with him. She sat at the kitchen table, the bank statements spread before her like a damning indictment. The numbers danced on the page, twisting and taunting her.

She’d spent years believing they were a team, that they shared everything. Now, she realized that she’d been nothing more than a convenient accessory. Anger bubbled up, a molten core threatening to erupt. She pushed the papers away, sending them fluttering to the floor.

She reached for the bottle of wine, a familiar comfort. The first sip burned her throat, but the heat offered only a momentary distraction.