Gemotions

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, but the warmth did nothing to soothe the chill inside him. He sat in the armchair, the list lying open in his lap, the ink of his wife, Claire's, handwriting stark against the creamy paper. It read of grand adventures and simple pleasures – dreams he hadn’t even considered.

He rubbed his temples, a headache beginning to bloom behind his eyes. He’d always thought he knew her, known what made her happy. But the list was a revelation, a secret garden he hadn’t been invited into. He felt a strange sort of fury, a burning resentment he couldn't quite explain.

He stood up abruptly, the list falling to the floor. He needed air, needed to escape the suffocating weight of his own thoughts. He went out, the door slamming shut behind him.