Gemotions

The typed list felt cold and impersonal against Clara’s skin. Each bullet point was a punch to the gut. It was Oliver’s. *Travel the world.* *Master a new language.* *Find happiness, truly.* The final item, inked in a frantic scrawl, echoed in her ears: *Without you.*

She sat on the edge of their bed, her hands trembling so violently that she had to put the list down. The room spun slightly. She couldn't breathe properly.

She felt a dizzying sensation, like falling into a deep abyss. The familiar scent of his cologne, which clung to the pillows, suddenly felt like a weapon. The air crackled with unspoken tension, and the comfortable rhythm of their life shattered.