Gemotions

He stared at the credit card statement, each line a blow. He knew he'd have to say something. But he couldn't. His throat constricted. He felt as though a steel band was tightening around his chest. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

He wandered out to the garage, the familiar smell of oil and gasoline doing nothing to soothe his disquiet. He kicked a tire. He hated confrontation. This would be a fight. He could feel it.

He thought of all the times he'd asked her if things were okay. She'd always answered "yes". Now, the word felt like a lie. He walked back inside, the garage suddenly feeling empty and cold.