The Lady Next Door - A Sequel to "The Man Next Door"

Chapter 4: Gone But Not Forgotten

Patrick stares out into the dark speckled sky through the windows as he trots down the stairs into the living room, he buttons his shirt up slightly as he marches down the hall and turns to the front door.

Word had finally gotten around that they had moved in, so he was prepared to be met with either his wealthy new neighbors showering him with welcome, or their kids who pulled pranks on newcomers like if it were a tradition.

Either way, he was going to need his shirt on.

He peeks through the glass of the door to find that a woman with dark hair was standing behind it. She was alone and holding something, "can I help you?" He asks as he looks past the door.

"Hey," she shows him a smile, "remember me?"

Patrick absurdly looks to the ground as a feeling of shock courses through him, he looks up again to meet her green set of eyes, and a face he hadn't seen since high school, "what are you doing here?" He says in irritation.

"I just wanted to bring your volleyball back," she says laughing, handing it to him, "it rolled out of your trunk."

"Why are you here?" He picks his voice up slightly, startling her, "do you live around here?"

"I'm just visiting some family who live around here, and I heard you moved in recently," she says, glaring at him, "I didn't expect you to react like this Patrick, I-"

"Just get out of here," Patrick sighs, rubbing his neck as he leans against the door, "your sister wouldn't be okay with this and you know that." He adds, "and why show up at this late of an hour anyway?"

"Uh," she shrugs, beginning to walk off as she pulls her sweater further over herself, "I don't know... you used to always stay up to this late of an hour."

Patrick rolls his eyes, "Goodnight, Maria. I don't want you to come up to my door ever again," he gives her a look of remorse, "as badly as I know you would like to catch up."

He watched as she walked off into the distance, hopping into a luxurious car that he thought someone of her reputation wouldn't be able to afford, even in a million years.

Patrick shuts the door quietly and begins to make his way back up to their shared bedroom, his pulse was skyrocketing from the frustration he kept bottled up inside of him. He was not going to worry Vera, that was the last thing he wanted for her.

"Who was it, Patrick?" She asks, pacing back and forth between their bedroom and bathroom as she got ready for bed.

"Just some girl," he laughs silently as he takes off the dress shirt. Patrick sinks down into their bed and watches as she makes her way to him, "the ball from the beach rolled out of our car and somehow ended up on her driveway."

Vera stopped, staring him down as she stood before the bed, "was it Maria?"

He could've sworn he felt something inside of him burst, he felt himself grow hot, "how do you know her, Vera."

"I met her the other day," she says, sitting down next to him, "she seemed very odd."

"Right," Patrick nods, turning away, "she does seem odd."

"I had a feeling that you encountered someone from the past even before you walked back in here," Vera says, interrogating further, "the way you looked when you walked back in here told me that I was right."

Patrick faces her again quickly, "how could you possibly know that?" He looks at her as if he'd just seen a ghost.

"I don't know," Vera bites her lip as she thinks it all through, "it could be the whole psychic thing."

"So it isn't because I'm readable?"

"Oh no, you're very readable," they chuckle as she begins to lean closer into him. Vera lays her head on his chest and eventually looks up to meet his eyes.

"So who is she?" Vera whispers, failing to hold in a smile.

"Just someone from high school," Patrick sighs, feeling himself calm down with her in his arms, "it's complicated."

"So it's an ex?"

"No, it's definitely not an ex." He laughs, wrapping his arms around her figure gently.

Vera looked back down, and as minutes went by, she found herself closing her eyes out of exhaustion. "Well, she's very pretty," Vera says in a broken voice, almost as if she's just mistakingly told a thought out loud.

Patrick smiles, kissing her head as he pulls the covers over them, "she's not something you have to worry about," he says as he traces her chin, "she may be pretty... but you're beautiful."