Gemotions

The champagne tasted exquisitely sweet. Amelia clicked her heels together, a little skip in her step as she walked towards the patio doors. The sun shone on the glistening pool, a constant reminder of the life she was building. The fact that the reclusive Mr. Finch next door, the quiet man who drove the old station wagon, was actually fabulously rich, just solidified it.

She’d always been drawn to the finer things, to the elegance. It confirmed that she had always made the right choices. She had always trusted her gut. She’d known for years that there was more than met the eye with Mr. Finch.

She turned to her husband, her smile wide. “Darling,” she said, her voice lilting, “I think it's time we finally booked that trip to the South of France.” Her shoulders straightened a little as she spoke.