Gemotions

The bank statement landed on the kitchen table with a silent thud, a stark contrast to the clatter of Amelia's furious scrubbing. She stared at it, the creamy paper mocking her. Thirty-two thousand dollars. Her jaw clenched. She knew Daniel was "good with money." He’d always been the one to clip coupons and haggle at the farmer’s market. But this felt different. It felt like a deliberate act of… exclusion.

She slammed the sponge down, the sudden noise echoing in the quiet house. Daniel was supposed to be at a conference. He’d told her he’d be gone all week. Amelia picked up the phone, her fingers hovering over the dial pad. But she stopped. No. She wouldn’t call. She wouldn't confront him yet. This deserved more than a phone call.

The blood thrummed in her ears. She went to the liquor cabinet and poured a generous measure of scotch. The amber liquid tasted acrid against her suddenly dry tongue. He thought he was so clever, didn't he? Well, she would show him. She would show him just how much she knew about his little secrets.