Page 7 of Daddy Next Door

"Neighbors help neighbors," I said, though I felt a flutter in my stomach at the idea of him "owing me one."

As I headed back to my house, the Vitality Juice logo seemed suddenly clearer in my mind. I knew exactly what it needed. Sometimes a different perspective was all it took.

***

Iclosedthefinalemailto the Vitality Juice client with a satisfied click. The rebrand had come together beautifully after my impromptu break helping Ethan. Stretching my stiff shoulders, I glanced at the clock—9:17 PM. Late enough that logging onto LittlesOnline wouldn't feel like procrastination. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a second before muscle memory took over, typing the familiar URL, my heart quickening as the pastel-colored login page loaded.

The forums were busy tonight, dozens of conversation threads about everything from favorite stuffed animals to boundary-setting with potential caregivers. But I wasn't here for the general forums.

My eyes immediately went to the chat sidebar. There, marked with a green dot indicating "online," was ProtectorE's avatar—a stylized teddy bear wearing glasses.

I clicked his name without hesitation.

StarryLittle:You're back! Where did you disappear to last night?

I watched the little animated dots that showed he was typing. They stopped, started again, then finally:

ProtectorE:I'm so sorry about that, Starry. My internet connection cut out completely in the middle of our talk. By the time I got it working again, it was very late, and I figured you'd gone to bed.

StarryLittle:No worries! I was just worried something had happened to you.

ProtectorE:That's very sweet of you. I should have messaged you today to explain, but work was especially busy. How has your day been? Did you make progress on that big project?

I smiled at his thoughtfulness, always remembering the details of my life.

StarryLittle:Actually, yes! I finally nailed the rebrand. But the most interesting part of my day was helping my new neighbor set up his standing desk.

I paused, fingers hovering over the keys. Was I really going to gush about Ethan to ProtectorE? But he was my confidant, the person who understood parts of me that no one else did.

StarryLittle:Remember that neighbor I told you about? The psychologist? I ended up spending almost two hours at his place today.

The response dots appeared immediately.

ProtectorE:The one you brought the welcome basket to? Tell me more about that. How did desk assembly turn into a two-hour visit?

The question was casual enough, but I sensed a particular interest behind it. I detailed the morning's events—hearing Ethan through the wall, seeing him struggle with the delivery, offering to help. As I typed, I found myself including small details I hadn't consciously registered at the time: the way his forearms flexed when tightening screws, how he smelled faintly of cedar and coffee, the precise way he organized his tools as we worked.

ProtectorE:Sounds like you two worked well together. Did you talk much during this desk assembly?

StarryLittle:Yes, but mostly about the desk. He was really attentive though—listened to my suggestions without questioning them. Not all men would take furniture assembly advice from a woman they barely know.

There was a longer pause before his next response.

ProtectorE:Maybe we shouldn’t talk about your neighbour. It’s important to stay anonymous online.

I swallowed. He was right.

StarryLittle:Okay. You’re probably right.

The chat window waited, patient and non-judgmental.

ProtectorE:Sorry. Didn’t meant to shut you down.

StarryLittle: Don’t worry. I know you’re just looking after me.

ProtectorE: Right. And I’m sure that’s what your neighbour would want, too.

I took a deep breath, my fingers trembling slightly over the keys.

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