Gemotions

"Honey, could you grab the mail?" Clara called from the porch, already wrapping herself in a shawl.

John sauntered into the entryway, the late afternoon light catching the dust motes dancing in the air. He was a creature of habit, and her routines were now intertwined with his own. He was so comfortable in their life together.

As he sifted through the envelopes, one caught his attention – a bank statement addressed to Martha Jones. He knew the mailman sometimes made mistakes, but his heart started thudding a little faster. Martha was his wife. He felt a strange flutter in his stomach. He peeked inside.

It was a savings account, and the balance was significant. He thought about their upcoming anniversary, their shared dreams of traveling the world. A gentle smile touched his lips. He knew what he’d do.