Chapter 1: Introduction
“Are you sure you locked the back door, Katy?” Greg called from the bedroom.
“Yes, yes. I'm coming,” I replied. I had started to feel his tone was increasingly snappy—just like our marriage for the past few months, to be honest.
I pulled my cardigan over my shoulders and turned off the living room light. Our two-story suburban home had always been just fine, perfectly functional, but it suddenly occurred to me that I’d never feel at home here.
Don't get me wrong. I loved Greg.
He was my rock, my confidant, and my partner in life. We had shared countless memories and built a life together that many couples only dream of. But somewhere along the way, something shifted, and the familiarity that once felt comforting suddenly felt suffocating.
As I made my way to the kitchen, I could feel the cool night air seep through the gap under the door, a welcome relief from our stuffy home. I looked out the window and saw Jamal working diligently in his garden.
Jamal, the neighbor.
Our age difference was apparent, but he was still a head-turner. His tall, athletic build was well-maintained, and his chiseled features resembled that of a sculpture. His laughter often floated in on the breeze, stirring in me a longing I couldn't quite understand.
The door creaked under my grip as I opened it, but Jamal barely looked up, greeting me with a warm smile that set my insides alight. It wasn't the first time I'd caught myself watching him outside our window.
Jamal had a certain charm that drew people in. He was a man of the earth, never afraid to get his hands dirty as he planted and nurtured his garden. There was something so incredibly sensual about it, but I had to snap myself out of it.
"Good evening, Mrs. Katy," Jamal said as he finally looked up from his gardening, revealing his warm, dark eyes.
"Hi, Jamal. Just making sure the door's locked." I feigned innocence, hoping my cheeks weren't as flushed as I felt.
Jamal nodded, then gestured to the tools lying on the grass. "I'm just finishing up here. It's so relaxing to work in the garden after a long day, don't you think?"
I eyed the trowel in his hand, thinking of the ways its edge could trace a body instead of earth. I shook my head and tried to concentrate on the conversation. "Yeah, I wish we had the time to create a garden like yours.