Gemotions

The florist's delivery boy left the lilies at the receptionist's desk. The lilies were pale and elegant, and for Eleanor, they had no name attached. Her jaw dropped slightly. A cold sensation spread through her chest. It was not a gesture she expected.

She hadn't had a romantic interest in over a decade. Her personal life was a carefully constructed fortress, built on routine and solitude. This breach in the walls, this fragrant trespass, left her disoriented.

She felt a dizzying wave. She ran a hand through her hair, her eyes darting around the office. Who knew her well enough to choose lilies? Who was watching?