Gemotions

The realtor had described the house as “quaint,” a word that, in Liam’s experience, usually meant “small” and “slightly falling apart.” He'd agreed to the purchase mostly to appease his wife, Chloe, who’d been dreaming of this kind of life for years. Now, standing beside her in the dusty basement, he felt a knot tightening in his stomach.

Chloe, all bright eyes and rapid-fire questions, was bouncing with excitement. "Imagine, a wine cellar! A games room!" She ran her hand along a section of the stone wall, her face lit by the dim light of her phone. She felt around a seemingly innocuous section of the wall and it gave way to reveal a small stone chamber, complete with wooden racks. He saw her eyes widen as she explored the small space.

He followed her, the small space a cold and desolate echo of the happiness she was experiencing. He hated her excitement, hated that the house was somehow fulfilling her dreams, and he was not the origin of this happiness.