Gemotions

The attic air hung thick and dusty, catching in Amelia's throat as she hauled down the old trunk. It was supposed to be a romantic weekend away, but Liam had feigned a late-night work meeting. Now, here she was, poking around in the dusty relics of his past, a growing tightness in her chest. She pried open the lid, a plume of ancient air escaping.

Inside, nestled amongst faded photographs and forgotten trinkets, was a small, leather-bound notebook. Liam's handwriting, unmistakable. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the worn cover. A bucket list. She flicked through the pages, her eyebrow arching higher with each entry: ‘Learn to speak fluent Mandarin.’ ‘Climb Kilimanjaro.’ ‘Build a rocket ship.’ She chuckled, a short, brittle sound.