Gemotions

The spreadsheet shimmered on the laptop screen, a vibrant testament to betrayal. Amelia stared at the numbers, her jaw clenched. Thirty-seven thousand dollars. Just...sitting there. She hadn't bought a new dress in six months, worried about the budget. He had casually mentioned a lean month last week. Ha.

She slammed the laptop shut, the click echoing in the suddenly silent house. Her hand trembled as she reached for her phone. Should she call her best friend, Sarah? No, not yet. This was a private humiliation. She needed to process it alone, stew in the bitter juices of deceit.

The scent of dinner, a pot roast he'd been carefully preparing all afternoon, filled the air. She walked into the kitchen, a false smile plastered on her face. "Smells amazing, honey," she said, her voice tight, a note of something akin to acid hidden beneath the sugary words.