Gemotions

He carefully slid the bank statement back into the drawer, trying to smooth out the creases. It was a futile gesture. The image of the account balance was burned into his memory. His wife, Emily, had always been so careful, so frugal. It didn't make sense.

His fingers twitched. He sat at the kitchen table, running a hand through his hair. The room felt stifling. He reached for a glass of water, knocking it over in his haste.

He stared at the spreading stain on the tablecloth. He had to know. The prospect of confronting Emily filled him with a strange, hollow ache. He felt very small.