Gemotions

He'd left it on the bedside table. A simple, lined notebook, its cover plain, the pages filled with her husband, Ben's, scrawled handwriting. Amelia picked it up, expecting a grocery list, a reminder of a dentist appointment. Instead, it was a bucket list. "Ride a hot air balloon." "Write a novel." "Adopt a dog." A wave of… a feeling of destabilization washed over her.

She stumbled back, sinking onto the edge of the bed. The sunlight streaming through the window suddenly felt blinding. She ran her hand through her hair, a nervous gesture she hadn't realized she was making.

Her gaze zeroed in on the last entry, written in a shaky hand: "Tell Amelia the truth." What truth?