Gemotions

The bank statement felt heavy in Amelia's hands, a stark contrast to the lightness she usually associated with her life. Sunlight sliced across the kitchen table, illuminating the crisp paper with the stark black and white numbers. She traced the balance with a fingertip. So much more than she’d ever imagined. A strange heat prickled at the back of her neck.

She called out to Mark, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet house. “Honey, can you come here a sec?” Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic little drumbeat. When he appeared, wiping his hands on a dishtowel, she just held out the statement.

Mark’s face went white. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Then, in a rush, he explained, stammering over his words, something about a rainy-day fund, a surprise, an intention to finally get that boat they’d always talked about. Amelia remained silent, watching the sweat bead on his forehead, a knot forming in her stomach.