Gemotions

The bank statement felt slick in Amelia's sweaty palm. A lump formed in her throat as she stared at the balance – significantly more than she'd ever imagined. Her breath hitched. She'd been sorting through paperwork, a task she usually found mundane, but this time a sharp prickle ran down her spine. The account wasn't jointly held. A low hum filled her ears, a sound she hadn't noticed until this moment.

She meticulously folded the paper back into its envelope, her fingers clumsy. Amelia glanced at the clock; it was nearly time for dinner. She should start preparing. The thought felt heavy, the movements slow. Her husband, David, would be home soon.

The familiar sound of the garage door opening later that evening nearly made her jump. He walked in, whistling a jaunty tune, oblivious. "Honey, what's cooking?" He asked, his smile broad. She managed a weak one in return, the secret between them creating a chasm.