Gemotions

The spreadsheet was innocently labeled "Household Expenses." Evelyn had stumbled upon it while looking for the Wi-Fi password. Now, a coldness settled in her stomach as she scrolled through the meticulously itemized entries. Rent, utilities, groceries… then, a category she didn't recognize: "Investments – John's Account." A sizable sum, growing steadily. A deep flush crept up her neck.

She reread the entries, each one a slap in the face. Their joint account always felt tight, stretched thin. They’d argued about her new gardening hobby, the cost of the heirloom tomato seeds. Her own small savings account, diligently squirreled away, felt paltry in comparison. Her fingers clenched the mouse, a white-knuckled grip.

That evening, during dinner, John talked animatedly about a potential promotion. Evelyn found herself staring at his overly expressive hands, suddenly finding the way he gestured with them irritating. The way he chewed, the way he laughed at his own jokes – all of it grated on her nerves. She pushed her food around her plate, the flavors suddenly bland and unappealing.