Gemotions

The small, neat script on the list made Amelia’s stomach churn. “See the Northern Lights.” She sat on the floor of the closet, the smell of mothballs a poor comfort. This document felt like a declaration of her own insignificance.

She remembered John’s recent weekend trips. He’d said they were for work. She felt a profound sense of foolishness, the bitter aftertaste of a lie she hadn’t even realized she was consuming.

She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that had settled deep within her bones. The house seemed to shrink around her, closing in with the weight of her unspoken fears. He’d never mentioned it to her, never considered her a part of his ambitions.