Gemotions

The spreadsheet shimmered on the screen, a digital serpent of numbers. Sarah traced her finger down the rows, each entry a stab of cold. “Vacation, Tahoe, 2021: $3,500.” Her jaw clenched. The vacation they’d scrapped because *they couldn't afford it.* Now she understood. She'd play along. He wouldn't know she knew, not yet.

She printed the document, the whir of the printer a cruel whisper in the silent house. Later that evening, she'd make him dinner, his favorite, the lasagna she always complained took too much time. She'd pour him his wine, a little too much, and then, after the dishes were done and he was mellow, she’d ask. Innocently. About their financial plans.

She smiled as she began making a shopping list, adding lobster and a vintage champagne. She was going to savor this.