Gemotions

The lilies, their heavy scent already beginning to permeate the air, sat beside the overflowing bathtub. Claire stared at them, the steam from the water beading on her forehead. She felt a cold ache starting in her gut. She sank a little lower into the water, the heat a poor substitute for comfort.

She kept replaying the scene in her mind: the delivery driver, a young man with a polite smile, the flowers, the lack of any written greeting. Every time she reached a conclusion, she found herself back at the beginning. She should have asked, she thought, she should have demanded information.

She grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed at her face, trying to erase the unease that was building inside her. The water was getting cold. She felt exposed and vulnerable. She rose from the bath and wrapped herself in a towel, her skin prickling with fear.