Gemotions

The flickering fluorescent lights of the hospital hallway seemed to amplify the pounding in Arthur's head. He clutched the crumpled bills in his sweaty palm, the image of his wife’s face – normally radiant, now etched with worry – burned in his mind. He'd found the bank statement tucked into a cookbook, a secret account overflowing with money. He didn't understand. Was this for something he didn't know about? Was she planning something?

He ran a hand through his thinning hair, a nervous habit he'd developed over the last few weeks. His chest felt tight, constricting with each ragged breath. He’d hoped the drive to the hospital would clear his head, but it hadn’t. He had to know why she was keeping secrets.

He thought back to the argument that morning, words flung like daggers between them. He felt a pang of guilt, wishing he could take them back. He had to see her, explain to her that he knew. He'd take a deep breath and tell her they would get through whatever was going on. He just hoped they could.