Gemotions

Rain lashed against the window as Thomas stared at the list. “See the Northern Lights.” “Write a novel.” “Learn to surf.” He knew Eleanor, or thought he did. This list… it felt like a stranger’s aspirations. A knot twisted in his stomach, a physical manifestation of his unease. He ran a hand through his hair, the bristles rough against his scalp.

He’d always believed Eleanor was content, happy with their quiet life. He glanced at the list again, at the exotic destinations and ambitious goals. Was he simply wrong? Had he misread the situation entirely? He walked to the kitchen and made a cup of tea. He found himself adding sugar, a luxury he rarely indulged in.