Gemotions

He stared at the statement, the numbers blurring through a sudden haze. Sarah's account. An account he'd sworn didn’t exist. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if to physically pull himself together.

The house felt too quiet. He usually loved the peace of the late afternoon, but today it was oppressive. He kicked a discarded newspaper across the living room floor. He hated that. He hated everything right now.

He knew what he needed to do. He should just go and tell her. But he was frozen, the words caught in his throat like a bitter pill. He felt ashamed.