Gemotions

He found them on the doorstep when he returned from work. A simple cardboard box, tied with a black ribbon. Inside, a single, perfect white lily. No name, no message. His stomach lurched, the familiar bile rising in his throat. He felt the blood drain from his face.

The air in the hallway seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe. He backed away, his gaze darting around the hallway. The scent of the lily, cloyingly sweet, filled the space. He quickly shut the door behind him and fumbled with the locks, his hands shaking.

The box sat on the kitchen counter, a silent accusation. He didn't want to touch it. He paced the length of the kitchen, his mind racing. He kept replaying every conversation, every interaction, searching for a clue, a reason. The lily stared back at him.