Gemotions

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room as Eleanor stared at the bank statement. A small, innocuous envelope had slipped out of the side of her husband, Arthur’s, desk drawer while she was looking for a stapler. Inside, detailing a savings account she knew nothing about, with a balance she couldn't fathom. Her stomach churned, a cold knot forming just below her breastbone.

She absentmindedly traced the embossed lettering on the envelope, her fingertips tracing the familiar script. This couldn't be right. Arthur, who always fretted about bills and budget cuts, had a secret stash? She re-read the numbers, each digit a tiny hammer blow against her peace of mind.

Suddenly, she felt a strong impulse to rip the statement to shreds and hide it back in the drawer. Instead, she slowly folded it and tucked it into her pocket, suddenly aware of how loud the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall was.