Gemotions

The doorbell chimed, a cheerful sound that felt discordant against the silence of the apartment. Amelia peered through the peephole. A delivery person stood clutching a bouquet of crimson roses, their velvety petals practically screaming for attention. Her pulse quickened. She opened the door, a polite smile plastered on her face, and signed for the flowers, her hand trembling slightly as she took the pen. No card. A small knot formed in her stomach.

She carried them inside, placing the vibrant blooms on the kitchen table. The vibrant color felt oppressive, suffocating even. A shiver traced its way down her spine. She kept glancing at the roses, her mind replaying the events of the last few weeks. Had she forgotten a birthday? Offended someone? She picked at the skin around her nails, a nervous habit that she hadn't indulged in years.

She tried to rationalize it. Maybe it was a mistake. A wrong address. But a prickly sensation crawled over her skin, telling her otherwise. She poured herself a glass of water, her hand shaking so badly she nearly spilled it. She found herself checking the locks on the doors and windows. Again.