Gemotions

The hum of the refrigerator felt like a drill boring into Amelia’s skull. She paced the length of their small apartment, her slippers slapping against the worn linoleum. The silence, always a comfort, now felt heavy, suffocating. She'd been certain there was something, she just didn't know what it was. Her husband, Thomas, was due back any minute.

She’d found the small, spiral-bound notebook tucked under his mattress. She had initially sworn she wouldn't look. The temptation became unbearable, like a fever. "Climb Mount Kilimanjaro." Her breath caught. Thomas was afraid of bugs.

She continued down the list. “Learn to scuba dive.” “Sail around the world.” “Start a business.” Each entry felt like a revelation, each line a hidden betrayal. He had never said any of this.

A key rattled in the lock. She froze, her heart hammering against her ribs. She shoved the notebook under the bed and turned.