Gemotions

The list, scrawled on a napkin, seemed to mock her. "Go skydiving," it read, in a handwriting she usually found endearing. Now, it just felt…foreign. Chloe balled the paper and threw it at the wall.

Her breath hitched in her chest. She pictured him, carefree, soaring through the air. She’d suggested couples' therapy last week, a suggestion he'd dismissed with a casual wave of his hand.

She ripped open the nearest drawer and began tossing out his things – a worn-out t-shirt, a half-used bottle of cologne, a forgotten book. Each item felt like a betrayal.