Gemotions

The sunlight sliced through the blinds, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Sarah found the list tucked between the pages of Ben’s favorite book. Her stomach, usually a reliable friend, felt like it was doing somersaults. "Ride a mechanical bull." "Swim with sharks." "Become a famous painter."

She sat on the edge of the bed, the list a physical weight in her hands. Ben, the man who meticulously ironed his shirts and preferred a quiet night in with a documentary, wanted to do… *this*? She felt a chill crawl up her spine, even though the room was warm. She looked at their wedding photo on the nightstand. The smiles seemed painted on.