Gemotions

The scent of lavender wafted from the notebook. It sat on the bedside table, beside a vase of freshly cut lilies. Elena picked it up, her fingers tracing the smooth cover. Inside, Eleanor's handwriting, usually so neat, was frantic and spidery. "Learn to Tango." "Get a tattoo." "Fall in love with someone new."

Elena felt her skin prickle. She had always prided herself on being the "safe" partner, the one who provided stability and security. Now, that felt like an insult.

She walked out of the bedroom, not bothering to close the door behind her. She needed air, needed to be somewhere where the floral scent didn't linger and choke her.