Gemotions

The small, leather-bound notebook was tucked away in the attic. Within its pages, Amelia discovered a meticulously kept record of her husband, Robert's, secret savings. He'd never mentioned it. He had, instead, constantly spoken of financial worries, of tightening their belts.

She felt a wave of bitterness wash over her. She felt stupid. She felt used. All the shared meals, all the laughter, felt hollow now. She had to sit down and hold her head in her hands.

She sat for hours, replaying the conversations, scrutinizing the gestures, searching for the clues she'd missed. She felt a terrible emptiness inside. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but she was frozen in place.