Gemotions

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the kitchen floor. She stood at the counter, meticulously chopping vegetables, the rhythmic thud of the knife a percussive beat to her turmoil. She had found his list tucked inside a cookbook, a handwritten scrawl listing various culinary adventures. "Master the art of paella." She’d spent years perfecting her own. He had never complimented her cooking.

She dropped the knife with a clatter. It had been years of shared meals and silent discontent. The feeling rose in her throat, a choked sob fighting its way out.