Gemotions

The flickering neon sign of the diner cast an unsteady glow on the rain-slicked street. Michael nursed his lukewarm coffee, the bitterness somehow comforting. He’d found the account details tucked inside a book his wife, Susan, cherished. The sum was shocking.

He picked at a loose thread on the vinyl booth. Susan's laughter, bright and breezy, had always grated on him in their relationship. Now, it made him feel physically ill.

He watched the door, waiting for her to arrive. His fingers tightened around the flimsy paper napkin he was holding. He had a feeling today was going to be an awful day.