The Couple Next Door 소설 & 이야기

Again, he pounded his fist on the door, harder this time around but instead, a neighbor jutted out. "Hello, young man," the octogenarian with a pair of glasses at the tip of her nose took shaky baby steps, with her third leg, closer to the hedge that separated the two homes. "Hi." "You seem not to have been informed, I see. As it is, the former occupants of these home left a couple of days ago, tomorrow surely makes it a week if I'm not mistaken." "What!?" he prayed to have heard her wrong. "Are you sure about this ma'am?"

Nate is obviously puzzled as well but he did what he was told. The two feel awkward suddenly finding themselves sitting closely next to each other but the older couple seems to be happy about it. "We saw you two here yesterday," the old lady teased them. "Hon, that's enough. Let's leave them alone," the old man told his wife. "Oh, I didn't realize it's almost 11AM. My favorite show is starting in 30 minutes. We better hurry," the old lady said. The old couple left in a hurry without introducing themselves to Cela and Nate.

That was how it started with the man next door. His name was Grant. Forty-one. Married. Broad-shouldered, quiet, the kind of neighbor who offered to help carry boxes and then stayed for a beer on the porch. His wife, Nadia, worked long hours at the hospital and came home after dark most nights. Grant had mentioned it once, casually, like it didn’t matter. It had mattered. For three weeks they had been careful. His place when Nadia was on nights. Her place when he could slip away for an hour. Never long enough. Never loud enough. Always the same sharp, almost angry hunger, like both of them were trying to outrun something.

The sounds from the next room grew louder and louder. There were the unmistakable sounds of a woman's moans and a man's rhythmic grunts. The noise disturbed the serene, peaceful night. I couldn't knock on the door to stop them, though. After all, it was my mother-in-law and her new boyfriend causing the commotion. My name is Jenna Cross. My husband, Chester Dalton, and I had only gotten married three years ago. Since then, we'd lived with Chester's mother, Frida Sherman.

"It wasn't an offer, idiot. Get out of my room." "Well, we're neighbors." "Are you serious?" "Yup. We're next door neighbors. So, that means you're going to have to see me more often than expected." "Fuck. What a joke. Remind me to not go anywhere near here ever again." "It's not the end of the world. It could be worse." "How?" "We could be sharing a bed. Or even a room. Imagine the press and media catching a photo of us and publishing an article saying that we were cheating on our spouses and shit."

“And you’re a good person. No matter what you think your past tells you, I see you and your kindness, your compassion, your dedication. I don’t know if this was brought on by Ryan or work, but I’m always here to talk.” I huff, letting myself shake my head now. “I’m sorry for the madness I’ve brought to the table. A whole damn divorce was not in the cards for this year.” He grins back. “No, it usually isn’t. But the good news is, your neighbor next door has gone through his own nasty divorce and might have some helpful advice.” “Even if I break down and have a panic attack after being assaulted at my job?” It’s supposed to be a joke, but it stings as I say it.

But then I reminded myself that this was a safe place, a neighborhood far removed from all the complications of our past. Opening the door, I was greeted by a warm smile from a woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, holding a casserole dish in her hands. Beside her was a man with a friendly expression and two children, a boy and a girl around Daphne’s age. “Bonsoir!” the woman greeted, her French accent light and cheerful. “I’m Camille, and this is my husband, Marc. We live next door and just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

Just as Blaine had a serious expression on his face, Hannah's parents came down from the second floor. Blaine's anger flared up again when he saw Georgia and Jaylen. The Hawthorne family and the Howell family were living next door. Kendall got married, and the Howell family decorated their house with lights and decorations, but no one came over to congratulate him. Anyway, the two families have been close friends for many years, the Howell family's behavior was also very unkind. Blaine looked at Georgia and Jaylen and sarcastically said, "Jaylen, you two seem to be in a good mood today, huh?"

The specific, hungry want of her wife’s taste, her wife’s surrender. The trip had been a much needed honeymoon.Two weeks in a remote luxury resort, a bubble of heat and cedar against the endless white. They’d arrived that afternoon, the tension a live wire between them from the moment the door clicked shut. A shared shower that was more tease than cleanse, a slow, deliberate unpacking where hands lingered on zippers and skin. They’d made it through an almost kiss and now it all came crashing out like a broken flood gate.

I couldn't understand why my friend said the man looked familiar, but then I realized it was Joe, my neighbor and Lesley's husband. Sometimes we would travel together, and I would post our group pictures online, so it wasn't surprising that my friend recognized him. Seeing the way they acted around each other, it didn't seem like they had only just gotten close the night before. When did it all start? After they left, I got out of the car and installed surveillance at home, then checked the trash in the bedroom. My fist tightened in anger when I saw what was in there.