Gemotions

He stalked through the house, his jaw clenched, kicking at a stray toy. His wife had been so excited. "Our forever home," she'd gushed. Forever. Now it was forever tainted. He should have listened to his gut, to the small voice of caution that had whispered in his ear. The previous owner, a man with a suspiciously vague history, had been eager to sell. He should have seen the red flags. Now, he felt trapped, his investment a constant reminder of his poor judgment. He glared at the newly painted walls, hating the cheerful colors, the forced optimism.