Gemotions

The spreadsheet was pristine, a monument to a life she hadn't known. Rows and columns detailing investment after investment, a carefully constructed nest egg that had nothing to do with their shared life. Her breath hitched. She slammed the laptop shut, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the study. A cold wave washed over her, leaving a prickly residue on her skin. She needed air.

The front door slammed behind her as she stalked out into the overgrown garden. The setting sun cast long, skeletal shadows across the lawn. He’d always said they needed to trim those rose bushes. Now, the thorns felt like a perfect reflection of her own prickly heart.

Her hands clenched into fists. She felt a burning need to lash out, to scream, but the words caught in her throat, strangled by a silent, invisible hand. The wind whispered through the leaves, a constant, mocking reminder of the secrets held close.