Gemotions

The apartment felt oppressively quiet. The silence was a physical weight, pressing down on David's shoulders. He slumped on the sofa, the remote control slipping from his numb fingers. He hadn't touched the thing all day. He had found Sarah's list tucked away in her desk drawer, alongside a collection of dried flowers and old photographs.

"Visit the Louvre. Learn to speak Italian. Volunteer at a wildlife sanctuary." Each item felt like a tiny, deliberate punch to his gut. He hadn't known about the Louvre, or the Italian, or her passion for rescuing animals. He'd thought he knew her. He felt a deep, abiding ache in his chest, a hollow feeling that echoed the vast emptiness of the room.