Gemotions

The dog-eared notebook lay open on the kitchen counter, its pages filled with neat handwriting. Sarah’s list. “Learn to surf.” “Visit the Louvre.” “Skydiving.” Mark’s jaw tightened. He read on, a cold knot forming in his stomach. “Run a marathon.” He’d always scoffed at her running, calling it a waste of time. He flipped to the next page, feeling a tremor in his hand.

He decided to bake her a cake. He’d never baked before, but the instructions seemed simple enough. He deliberately added twice the sugar, a gleam in his eye as he worked. When he presented it, he gushed about the fluffy layers and perfect frosting, watching her face for any hint of… something.

She took a bite, her expression neutral. “It’s… interesting,” she finally said. He choked down his own piece, the sweetness cloying, a bitter taste accompanying it. He’d made it and she would finish it. She would be sick.