Gemotions

He’d left it in the glove compartment – a slim, leather-bound volume. Alex shouldn’t have looked, but the curiosity was a relentless itch. It was Clara's. First entry: “Hike to Machu Picchu.” A wave of nausea hit him. They’d talked about hiking, about getting away, but their lives seemed to always conspire against it.

He imagined Clara, laughing, sweat beading on her forehead, conquering mountains. He, meanwhile, was stuck in meetings, glued to spreadsheets. He felt his hands clench.

He glanced at the time. Clara would be home soon. He needed to put the notebook back. He slammed it shut, the action a sharp punctuation mark to the thoughts swirling in his head. His heart hammered in his chest.