Gemotions

The late afternoon light poured through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah’s hands trembled as she typed in the online banking login. This was the third time this week she’d tried, driven by a gnawing unease that had settled deep in her chest. She found it: a savings account she’d never known about, bulging with money.

A wave of nausea washed over her. She gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, the cheap particleboard digging into her skin. He’d always been so careful, so frugal. It had been years since they'd last shared a meaningful conversation, the silence between them growing like a weed.

Later, she found him in the garden, meticulously pruning the roses. He looked up, his face unreadable. "What are you doing?" she asked, her voice thin, almost breaking. He merely shrugged and went back to his work, the metallic snip of the shears echoing in the quiet.