Gemotions

He’d found it tucked under the mattress, a dog-eared spiral notebook with a faded cover. David, usually unflappable, felt his face burn. The list, penned by Liam, was a catalog of adventures, of experiences, of things that were… not him. Number four: “Ride a mechanical bull.” David abhorred loud bars and public displays.

His hands shook as he closed the book. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. He rarely drank during the day. He downed the whole thing in one long swallow. The metallic tang did little to soothe the sudden, inexplicable agitation that had taken hold.

He looked around their home, at the carefully curated furniture, the matching cushions on the sofa. Everything felt suddenly… suffocating, a gilded cage built of their mutual, predictable routines. He had become the comfortable choice.