Gemotions

The doorbell. Sarah answered with a sigh, expecting the pizza. Instead, a delivery man brandished a bouquet, a ridiculous explosion of colour she didn't want. She grabbed it, muttering a curt “Thanks.” Then slammed the door.

She flung the flowers onto the sofa. They landed with a soft thud, a silent accusation. Her jaw was tight, her breath shallow. Why? The question echoed in her head. Who would do this?

She stormed to the kitchen, found a large mixing bowl, and tossed the flowers in. She had no intention of dealing with this. She'd deal with the pizza. She’d deal with everything, just not this unwanted affection.