Gemotions

John stared at the bank statement, his vision blurring slightly. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he could feel a tremor in his hands as he grasped the crumpled paper. He'd stumbled upon it while looking for stamps. He didn't have to be a financial expert to understand the magnitude of the account balance – a sum he had no knowledge of.

His heart thudded in his chest, a frantic drumbeat against his ribs. The living room suddenly felt too small, the air thick and oppressive. He paced back and forth, the hardwood floor creaking under his weight. He replayed their conversations in his mind, searching for clues, for hints of this secret.

"How could she?" he muttered, his voice barely audible. He clenched his fists, a wave of nausea washing over him. The photographs on the mantelpiece – smiling faces, shared vacations – seemed to mock him. He felt as though a rug had been pulled out from under him.