Gemotions

The smell of her perfume, a scent he once loved, now clawed at the back of her throat. “Climb Mount Fuji,” she had written. He had always wanted to be her everything, her adventure partner. Seeing the list, a list that clearly excluded him, was like a physical blow.

She shoved the list back into the drawer, the wood catching on a corner, forcing her to tug. The motion did little to ease the feeling of being trapped. She went into the kitchen to make dinner, tossing vegetables into the pan with unusual violence.

As she scraped the burnt food into the bin, she imagined smashing the plate against the wall. Instead, she offered him a silent, strained smile across the table.