Gemotions

A wave of nausea churned in Liam’s stomach as he peered through the peephole. He hadn't slept in two days, fueled by stale coffee and a gnawing unease. The florist’s van was parked across the street. He gripped the chipped mug tighter. He knew what was coming. The knock, hesitant at first, then insistent, came a moment later. He wrenched the door open before the delivery man could even reach it. A lush arrangement of lilies, their perfume cloying, sat in his hands. He scanned for a card, a lifeline, anything. Nothing. He slammed the door, the floral arrangement now a weapon in his hand. He’d messed up. He knew it.