Gemotions

The dog-eared notebook lay on the coffee table, a cruel invitation. I, Sarah, hadn't meant to snoop. But there it was, perched on the surface like a mocking bird. Ethan’s handwriting, neat and deliberate, adorned the cover: “Bucket List: Adventures to Come.” I picked it up, my fingers tracing the letters with a venom I didn’t know I possessed.

My stomach clenched as I flipped to the first page. “Learn to speak Italian fluently.” Fine. Good for him. “Hike the Pacific Crest Trail.” Okay. Ambitious. I gritted my teeth.

The list went on, each entry a fresh jab. “Write a novel.” “Master the art of wood carving.” “Visit the Galapagos Islands.” He had never mentioned any of this to me. Never shared his dreams. He had only ever talked about… us.

I slammed the book shut, the sound echoing in the silent apartment. A tremor ran through my hands. He wanted to be a renaissance man, and here I was, making dinner.