“Your garden,” he said quietly. “It looks nice.”
I laughed. “It’s the only thing I don’t accidentally kill.”
A faint smile flickered across his face before he scooped up the cat and retreated indoors.
Months turned into years. He remained polite but distant. He showed up briefly to neighborhood events, left candy bowls out for Halloween instead of answering the door, and generally kept to himself.
Then one evening, everything shifted.
He knocked on my door.
When I opened it, he looked pale and anxious.
