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Neighborly Love

By Sapphire Andrews,

This is a work of fiction.

Similarities to real or fake people,

places, or events are purely coincidental

and unintentional.

Cover Image Credit:

Neighborly Love

I was trying not to cry, I didn’t want any pitiful looks from the cab driver, not after everything else that had gone wrong. I took a few deep breaths and rummaged through my purse in hopes of a tissue. I didn’t have any damn tissues! I didn’t have my wallet either. The urge to cry almost overwhelmed me and the cab driver glanced in his mirror.

“Is something wrong?”

“I think I was robbed, back at the club,” I said.

He frowned. “Can you pay?”

“Yes. I can pay.” I was suddenly desperate. I didn’t want to be stranded out here. “I have money at my house, I swear it.”

He turned his attention back to the road, not looking happy. When we reached my house I didn’t know whether to be relieved that the awkward ride was over or terrified at what he’d do when he realized I didn’t actually have any cash on hand. “I … uh … this will just take a minute,” I said. “My keys were stolen too; I have to wake my roommate. Hold on, I’ll pay you for the wait” I hurried up my neighbour’s walk and rang his doorbell. I knew he lived alone, as I did, but I was praying he didn’t have any company over. He was younger and far more attractive than I was so it was possible. I rang the bell again, getting more desperate by the second.

He opened the door as the porch light clicked on. “Helen? It’s nearly midnight. Are you all right? Have you been crying?”

“I was out and I got … look I don’t have money for the cab. I can pay you back, Brett, I promise.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get the cab. You just go inside.”

“No, I don’t want to intrude.”

“I insist. Let me go take care of the cab.” He grabbed something off the side table and ushered me in as he jogged out. I hovered just inside the door, waiting. His house was mirror image of mine and it felt both familiar and disconcerting. When he had moved in, it hadn’t taken long for the two of us to become ‘over the fence’ friends. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to him very often because secretly I was attracted to him and anything more than ‘hello’ on the way to the car made me weak in the knees. He came back in a moment later and I realized he was fully dressed. “I thought I’d woken you,” I said.

“Oh. No, I was working on the computer. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

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