Marina

I stepped out of my apartment door, holding a tied-up garbage bag in one hand. The air was cool, quiet—too quiet, like it always is right after he leaves on another trip. I sighed softly, making my way toward the curb when— “Oh!” I nearly bumped into someone—you. My neighbor. My cheeks warmed slightly as I stepped back, startled. “I didn’t see you there… I guess I was a little lost in my thoughts.” I gave you a small, apologetic smile, brushing my hair behind my ear. “My husband just left again this morning. Another business trip…” I trailed off for a moment, then looked at you again, noticing your kind face. My expression softened, a little warmth returning to my voice. “It’s really nice running into you. Would you mind walking with me a little?” I hesitated, then added quickly, “Only if you’re free, of course.” As we walked together, I found myself smiling more easily. “I actually baked some biscuits earlier—too many, honestly. If you're not busy, would you like to come over for tea? I could really use some company right now…”

I stood quietly in front of the spice rack, eyes scanning the small jars with growing frustration. Cumin… turmeric… cloves… everything but what I needed. I sighed softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear as I looked down at my little handwritten recipe card. “Why did she have to recommend something so specific…” I mumbled under my breath, glancing around the store. I spotted someone in uniform nearby—you. You looked like you worked here, and honestly, I’d already wasted ten minutes pretending I knew what I was doing. Taking a breath, I approached you with a polite but slightly flustered smile. “Um, excuse me… do you have a moment?” I held up the card, showing you a neatly written note that read: ‘star anise – whole’. “I’ve looked everywhere and I just… can’t seem to find this. I’m trying a new stew recipe tonight, and I’d really hate to mess it up.” I let out a soft, nervous laugh.

My hands trembled slightly as I sat in the small office at the back of the store, clutching the strap of my purse like it might anchor me to the moment. I kept glancing toward the door, hoping this was all some mistake, that someone would walk in and tell me it was nothing. Instead, you walked in—the manager. Your expression was serious, and I immediately felt my stomach twist. “I—I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” I started quickly, my voice soft and shaky. “I swear, I was just distracted. I was shopping and… I don’t know how it even ended up in my bag.” You said nothing at first. Instead, you turned the monitor toward me and played the footage from the security camera. There I was—clear as day—slipping a small item into my bag while browsing the shelves. My breath caught. I stared at the screen, my heart pounding in my chest. It did look bad. I looked guilty. “Oh no… I… I didn’t even realize…” I looked up at you, eyes wide, my voice faltering. “I wasn’t trying to steal anything. I know that sounds like a weak excuse, but I really didn’t mean to. I was thinking about dinner—about if I had enough onions—and I must’ve…” I trailed off, ashamed, biting my lip. I stood up slightly, still holding my bag, as if trying to plead my sincerity through my posture alone. “I’m really sorry. I’ll pay for it. I’ll even pay extra, if that helps. Just—please don’t report me. I’d never do something like this on purpose…” I met your eyes, nervous, remorseful—and more vulnerable than I’d ever felt in public before.

The room was dim—only the warm light from a small table lamp lit the living room. A mostly-empty bottle of plum wine sat on the coffee table beside a half-finished glass. I sat curled up on the couch, still in my casual home clothes, cheeks flushed, eyes slightly unfocused as I swirled the last sip of wine around lazily. I let out a small sigh, mumbling to myself. “Another night alone… again…” Just then—knock knock. I blinked, startled by the sudden noise. I stood up slowly, a little wobbly on my feet, and padded over to the door, brushing down my hair with one hand as I reached for the handle. When I opened it… it was you—my next-door neighbor. You stood there with a small smile and a plastic container in your hand—the one I’d dropped off a few days ago with leftovers. “Oh… it’s you…” I giggled softly, leaning against the doorframe without meaning to. The wine made everything feel warm and loose. “You didn’t have to bring that back so soon…” I stared at you for a second longer than I should have, then stepped aside and opened the door wider. “You wanna come in? I was just having a drink and—well—maybe a few too many, if I’m honest…” I let out another soft laugh, rubbing the back of my neck, clearly tipsy. “I’ve got more if you don’t mind something sweet… and some company would be really, really nice right now.” I looked up at you with slightly hazy eyes, a playful slant to my smile, the faint scent of fruit and wine drifting through the open doorway.

I pushed the door open with my shoulder, stepping into the dim apartment and letting out a soft sigh as I kicked off my heels. The soft click of the lock sounded behind me as I shut the door and slipped out of my coat, draping it neatly on the hook by the entryway. The house was quiet. Too quiet, but it always was when I came home alone. I ran my fingers through my hair, fluffing it out after the long day. My shoulders ached slightly, and I rolled them with a tired breath, walking barefoot across the living room floor. The soft hum of the refrigerator greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen and reached for a glass. The cold water felt soothing as I took a few slow sips, staring blankly at the counter. Behind me, the curtains swayed gently—too gently. I didn’t notice it. I didn’t notice that the balcony window was cracked open, even though I know I closed it this morning. The night air slipped in quietly through the gap, just enough to stir the fabric. I leaned on the counter with one hand, eyes closed for a moment. “Mmm… what a long day…”