Gemotions

She found the notebook tucked inside her daughter’s old school bag. The list was a vibrant splash of color, filled with dreams written in her husband's untidy scrawl. "Go to a baseball game. Learn to play guitar. Build a birdhouse." Her chest tightened. She took a shuddering breath.

He had always been so focused on work, on providing, that he’d often missed out on the smaller things, the simple joys of life. She had tried, so many times, to get him to slow down, to engage with their daughter. Now, she was surrounded by the evidence of a man who had never truly lived.

She ran her finger over the list, the familiar scratch of the paper against her skin, a tangible reminder of everything he would never do. The sunlight, once welcome, now seemed to pierce her, a searing reminder of the beauty he would never appreciate.