Gemotions

Eliza paced the cramped apartment, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. The air felt thick, charged. A vein pulsed in her temple. Liam's list, meticulously typed and printed, lay on the coffee table. "See the Northern Lights." "Write a novel." "Learn to play the cello." She had never once heard him mention any of these things. She picked up a coaster and slammed it back down on the table, the ceramic ringing out in the silent room.

She picked it up again, then hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall with a satisfying *crack*. He wanted to go to Iceland, write a book, and play the cello? While she was stuck here, paying bills and eating instant noodles? A hot, stinging sensation burned behind her eyes. He was the one with the dreams.