Gemotions

The lilies arrived at the office, a fragrant explosion of white against the drab cubicle walls. He was certain. Absolutely, positively certain. They had to be from *her*. He’d caught her looking at him across the coffee machine yesterday. He'd practically vibrated with the attention.

He circled the vase, inhaling deeply, his chest constricting with a sudden, unfamiliar heat. The stems were still wet. Freshly cut. He imagined her, meticulously arranging them, her fingers tracing the delicate petals.

His hand trembled as he reached for the card. There wasn’t one. A wave of both elation and panic washed over him. He spent the rest of the day replaying every interaction they'd ever had, scrutinizing every fleeting smile, searching for a clue. He almost missed his deadline.