Gemotions

The envelope, innocuous-looking and unmarked, lay on the kitchen counter. Inside, a single bank statement. For the account of Mark Peterson. And a balance that made Maria’s eyes water. A feeling of utter devastation washed over her, and she felt the blood drain from her face. She stumbled backward, bumping into the island.

Mark, her kind, gentle Mark, had been secretly accumulating wealth. She remembered his recent complaints about the cost of everything, how they'd had to sell their car and reduce their trips. The statement felt like a physical blow. The cheerful yellow wallpaper of the kitchen suddenly seemed to mock her.