Gemotions

The fluorescent lights of the kitchen hummed, a jarring counterpoint to the quiet devastation churning inside Clara. She'd found Mark's bucket list tucked inside his worn copy of *Moby Dick*. *Hike the Appalachian Trail. Learn to play the guitar. Speak fluent Spanish.* He’d always been so… grounded. Predictable.

She slammed the fridge door a little too hard, the sound echoing in the empty apartment. A wave of heat washed over her, making her skin prickle. She grabbed a glass of water, her hand trembling so badly she nearly spilled it. They’d planned a quiet night in, but the silence felt like a physical weight pressing down on her.

Her mind conjured images of him, smiling, animated, doing things she knew nothing about. The chasm between the man she thought she knew and the aspirations on the page felt vast, unbridgeable. This was not the man she thought she had been happily paired with.