Gemotions

The paper shook in Amelia's trembling hands. "Climb Mount Kilimanjaro." That was first. "Learn to speak Italian fluently." Underneath, a messy scrawl in Liam's handwriting: "See the Northern Lights." Her breath hitched. She slammed the list onto the kitchen counter, the ceramic clattering. A cold wave washed over her, making her skin prickle. Why hadn't he told her? Why hadn't he confided in her? She stumbled back, needing air, and fumbled for her phone.

Her fingers wouldn't cooperate. She stared at the screen, unable to text his name. The ceiling seemed to be tilting. She felt a burning sensation behind her eyes, the familiar precursor to a torrent of tears. She had to sit down. The world was spinning.

The house suddenly felt enormous, empty. The silence was deafening, amplified by the frantic thumping in her chest. She remembered the way Liam used to describe the mountains, the way he'd dreamt of Italy. She sunk to the floor, the list still mocking her from the counter.