Gemotions

He’d forgotten to close the drawer. Liam stared at the notebook, lying innocently on the worn oak desk, its cover whispering of secrets. He picked it up, his pulse quickening. Inside, a list of things Clara wanted to do before she died. His world tilted a little.

*Climb a mountain.* Clara, who always needed help reaching the top shelf. He felt a sudden, sharp pang of... something, a loss of equilibrium. The room seemed to spin.

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers finding the familiar, comforting weight of his wedding ring. He glanced at the list again. *Write a novel.* He had always handled the finances, the practicalities. The thought that she envisioned a world without him was a dizzying, unsettling notion.

He quickly closed the notebook, a sudden chill in his bones. The late afternoon sun seemed to dim as if it were mourning something. He returned it to the drawer, the metal of the handle cold to his touch.