Gemotions

Clara felt a tremor run through her as she scrolled through the bank statements, the cool metal of her phone a poor comfort against her clammy hands. The numbers, cold and stark, swam before her eyes. Hundreds of thousands of dollars. Where had he gotten that much money? Was this some kind of sick joke?

She’d been battling insomnia for weeks, tossing and turning in the bed they once shared so peacefully, the silence of the house pressing down on her. The air in her throat seemed thick, as if she couldn't get enough of it. She felt a growing sense of dread, a sickening knot in her stomach.

She replayed their conversations in her head, searching for clues, for hints of betrayal. The way he’d been working late, the closed-door meetings, the vague answers to her questions. This couldn't be happening.