Gemotions

The bank statement crinkled in Amelia’s hand as she paced the length of the living room, her ankle-boot heels clicking a staccato rhythm against the hardwood floor. It was absurd. Absolutely absurd! She needed a new car; the old one coughed and sputtered more than it drove these days. And there, tucked away in a savings account she knew nothing about, was enough to pay for it outright. Her jaw tightened. Why hadn't David mentioned this?

She flicked a stray strand of hair away from her face, the motion jerky and abrupt. Her fingers itched to grab her phone and dial his number, demanding an explanation. But no. She would wait. For now.

The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to mock her, highlighting dust motes dancing in the air. Time crawled. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece; the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness.