Gemotions

He found it wedged under the bed, a crumpled receipt from a fancy restaurant clutched to the list. "Learn to speak Italian." Liam felt a strange, cold knot in his gut. Eleanor, his pragmatic, practical Eleanor, wanted to... *speak a romance language*?

He ran a hand through his hair. The list felt… wrong. Each item a pointed commentary on their life together. "Go to Venice." "Attend a wine tasting." The paper itself seemed to reek of expensive, foreign things.

He kicked at the duvet, anger flaring. Did she plan to leave him? He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee the room, to escape the suffocating weight of her unspoken dreams.