Gemotions

"Just sign here, ma'am," the delivery person said, his voice cheerful and oblivious. Sarah managed a weak smile and scribbled her name, the pen feeling unwieldy in her grip. The flowers were a riot of color, a carefully curated explosion of blooms. But there was no note. Her stomach felt like a cold stone.

She held the bouquet close, inhaling the perfumed air. It was overwhelmingly sweet, almost suffocating. Back in the apartment, she placed the flowers on the coffee table, a beautiful, yet unwelcome presence.

She walked from room to room, checking locks, peering out of windows. The apartment had always been a sanctuary, now it felt like a trap. Her breathing became shallow and rapid. She didn't know what she was scared of, but the fear was a palpable weight.