Gemotions

He hadn't slept well in weeks. He tossed and turned the previous night, unable to shake the feeling of disquiet that settled over him after finding the account details tucked away in the filing cabinet. It felt like a weight had settled on his chest, constricting his breathing.

He stared at the document, the bold black ink of the account balance mocking his attempts at focus. His fingers drummed a slow, erratic rhythm on the table. Each tap echoed the relentless throb behind his temples. He longed to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. He knew he should confront her, his wife, Emily, but the thought of the conversation, of the confrontation, felt like trying to climb a sheer cliff face.