Gemotions

The bank statement fluttered in Amelia's trembling fingers, the harsh fluorescent light of the kitchen seeming to magnify every glaring number. Tears welled, blurring the neat columns of figures. She felt a burning in her chest, a tightening that made it difficult to draw a full breath. “Sixty-thousand?” she whispered, the word barely audible. Her teeth chattered.

She slammed the statement onto the countertop, the plastic protector crinkling. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she grabbed the edge of the granite, her knuckles white. Where did he get this kind of money? Their budget was always so tight, every penny accounted for.

She needed air. Without thinking, she stumbled towards the back door, yanking it open and gulping down the cool, night air. The stars, usually a comfort, now seemed to mock her with their silent, distant beauty. He was supposed to be her partner.