Gemotions

The attic was a claustrophobic hell, thick with the scent of forgotten things. Leo, however, was in his element, rummaging through boxes with a childlike glee. He held up a tarnished silver picture frame, a wide smile plastered on his face. "Remember Grandma's photo of us at the beach? I'd love to put this in my new apartment!"

Maya stared at him, her jaw clenching. He already had a perfectly curated life. A high-paying job, a partner who adored him, a lifestyle she could only dream of.

"Sure," she mumbled, pushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Why did she even bother? She knew the house was hers to fix up. He'd never lift a finger, not when it came to the hard labor of it.

The frame was set aside. Leo would be gone by dinner. Another favor she'd be left to pay.