Gemotions

He stared at the bank statement, the stark black ink a constant, accusatory gaze. Hundreds of thousands, hidden away, building while he’d fretted over bills and late payments. He felt a throbbing ache in his temples, a pressure that threatened to split his skull. This wasn’t just money; it was a carefully constructed deception.

He found himself wandering aimlessly through the house, each room a testament to their shared history, now tainted by the knowledge of betrayal. He felt physically ill, a knot tightening in his stomach, as if he’d swallowed a rock.

“Where did I go wrong?” he muttered, the words barely a whisper. The silence in the house answered him, a vast, echoing emptiness that amplified his despair. He sank onto the sofa, the plush cushions suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar beneath him.