Gemotions

He stared at the roses. A dozen long-stemmed, perfect red roses, delivered to his office. He hadn’t ordered them. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture jerky and uncoordinated. His desk felt too small, the walls closing in. He felt the rapid beat of his heart thudding in his ears.

He scanned the faces of his colleagues, a wild, darting look. Did someone know? Did they know about her, about everything? He felt a prickle of sweat run down his spine. The flowers – they were a message, a threat. A cold wave rolled through him, numbing his fingers as he reached for the vase.