Gemotions

The flickering fluorescence of the bank branch seemed to amplify the heat prickling at Amelia’s skin. Her palms were slick against the cool, hard plastic of the chair. She absently rubbed them on her jeans. The little boxy room, usually so comforting with its beige and neutral tones, now felt suffocating. She gripped the bank statement, its crisp edges digging into her fingers. She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat refusing to budge. The balance. It was…substantial. A sum that didn't align with their shared financial planning, a disparity that made her stomach clench with an unpleasant tightness.

“Everything alright, ma’am?” the teller asked, her voice a little too cheerful.

Amelia forced a smile, a brittle thing that didn't reach her eyes. “Yes, fine. Just… double-checking.” Her voice sounded strained, even to her own ears.

The drive home felt interminable. Each red light was a fresh stab of frustration. She kept replaying the conversation she needed to have with David. The questions. The accusations, maybe. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being… off-kilter.