Gemotions

The list was tucked inside a book, a collection of poems she knew he loathed. "Skydiving." "Write a novel." "Find true love." The irony was almost comical, she thought, a wry smile touching her lips. He had found *her*. Or so she had believed. Now, a strange pressure built in her chest.

She went to his favourite restaurant, ordered his usual meal, and meticulously took notes. Every detail, every interaction, every word.

The next day, she called the restaurant's owner, described the meal, and paid for an entire week's worth of free dinners, which she demanded were given to a homeless shelter.