Gemotions

“A dozen white carnations,” the delivery man, a young man with a tired face, had announced. “No card.” She took the flowers, her mouth thinning into a tight line. Her eyes flicked towards the apartment complex across the street, knowing he lived there. She was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing they’d made it to her, or of her knowing they’d come from him. She shoved them into an empty pot on her balcony, ignoring the way the flimsy stems bent under the weight, before returning to her novel.