Gemotions

Eliza’s hands trembled as she unfolded the crumpled piece of paper. It was tucked away in the back of Mark’s sock drawer, a secret she wasn't supposed to know. The paper listed a series of seemingly simple goals, but her stomach churned as she read them. He wanted to go to the Amazon. He wanted to learn to play the guitar. He wanted to run a marathon.

A tremor ran through her. She felt like she'd been plunged into icy water. Each word on the page felt like a tiny, sharpened icicle, piercing her carefully constructed world. He'd never mentioned any of this. Never shared these ambitions.

She sank onto the bed, the paper now a useless, flimsy thing in her suddenly clumsy fingers. The air in the room felt too heavy, too thick. He planned to leave, she realized. All of this meant he planned to leave her, eventually. The thought choked her, stole the breath from her lungs.