Gemotions

The lilies arrived, their pristine white a stark contrast to the dust motes dancing in the afternoon sun. He’d nearly tripped over the box, the delivery man just a shadow disappearing back down the path. Inside, the flowers were perfect, a silent, elegant rebuke. His fingers trembled as he touched a petal, the texture unbelievably soft. He'd been an idiot, a complete and utter fool.

He went to the fridge and poured himself a glass of water, downing it in one long gulp. It did little to quell the knot in his stomach. The silence in the apartment was deafening, each tick of the clock a hammer blow against his skull. He should call her. He knew he should.

He found himself sitting on the floor, the vase of flowers placed carefully in front of him. They were a reminder of what he had destroyed. A constant, beautiful, condemning presence. He could barely bring himself to look at them.