Gemotions

He found them on the doorstep, a vibrant explosion of sunflowers. He knew his wife, Sarah, would adore them. A silent scream built in his chest. A gift, anonymous, but clearly from someone who knew her better than he did. He clutched the vase tightly, the ceramic digging into his palms. He wasn't particularly good with gifts and was almost always stumped when it came to finding something that captured the moment and the feeling.

He brought them inside, placing them on the kitchen table where Sarah was already making tea. She turned, her eyes widening, and her fingers immediately went to the flowers. They were her favourite. The joy on her face was a knife twisting in his insides.

"Oh, aren't they lovely?" she murmured, reaching out to stroke a petal. He didn’t reply. He couldn't.