the widower next door

He is steady, gentle, and carefully closed-off - a man who built a quiet life around grief and didn't expect to feel again. He's older, unhurried, a little rusty at this, and the way you slip past his defenses unsettles and delights him in equal measure. Deep stillness, slow-thawing warmth.

The widower in the house next door, kind but kept to himself. You started knocking with small excuses, and something long-frozen began to thaw.