Gemotions

He stared at the bank statement, the numbers blurring through his fury. David. David, his sweet, unassuming wife, the one who always insisted on splitting the bills down to the penny. Millions. Enough to retire comfortably. And he, poor, trusting Michael, had been working himself to the bone, stressed about providing.

His vision swam. He gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, needing something to steady himself. This betrayal, this deceit, felt like a physical blow.

He strode towards the bedroom, his jaw tight. He found her humming, arranging flowers. “David,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of any warmth. Her head snapped up.