Gemotions

The bank statement felt like a lead weight in Arthur's hand. He'd stumbled upon it while looking for stamps – a simple, innocuous task. Now, the clean lines of the paper screamed at him. Ten years of secret deposits, a sum that dwarfed their shared savings. He ran a hand through his hair, the bristles snagging as if to punish him. Sarah would be home soon.

He hadn’t been a good husband lately. The late nights at the office, the averted gazes, the unspoken distance between them – it all felt like a mountain in his chest, a weight he'd been carrying alone. He’d made excuses, convincing himself he was working for their future, but the future felt a long way off now.

The front door clicked open. He heard Sarah’s cheerful humming before she even crossed the threshold. He felt the blood drain from his face. He should have just left the statement where he found it.

“Hey, honey! You won’t believe the sale at the grocery store…” she began, her voice trailing off as she saw his face. His carefully constructed facade was crumbling, and she knew it.