The man next door is the same Ian I admired from a distance fifteen years ago, only the smiles and easy banter are gone.
A friend's offer of cheap rent was meant to steady life for me and my five-year-old son, not leave me beside a reclusive grouch who would rather glare than take cupcakes from my bakery.
After my last relationship burned out, I locked my heart away rather than risk my son's happiness along with it.
I still cannot explain why Ian steps in when I suddenly need childcare, or how fast my son takes to his dog and his terrible jokes.
Whatever sweetness is left in that grumpy man becomes dangerous the moment his old smile returns.
