Happily Ever After, Next Door

I believe in true love.

I always have.

Ever since I was a little girl, I believed that somewhere out there was a man who would find me, look into my eyes, and somehow just know.

He’s the one.

I grew up watching romantic movies and reading fairy tales where everything always worked out in the end.

The princess found her prince.

The lonely girl found her soulmate.

The couple who hated each other eventually fell in love.

And, of course, everyone lived happily ever after.

I was thirty-five years old.

Still single.

Still waiting.

And apparently, still stupid enough to believe in fairy tales.

Because I was currently sitting across from a man whose left eye was looking at me...

while his right eye seemed to be looking for the nearest emergency exit.

“So,” he said, smiling. “Tell me about yourself.”

I smiled politely.

“I’m a wedding coordinator.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

He nodded.

I nodded.

There was an awkward silence.

Then something flew past his face.

A tiny insect.

Before I could even react—

SMACK!

His hand landed on the table.

I jumped.

“What was that?”

He proudly lifted his hand.

“Got it.”

I stared at the dead insect on his palm.

“Oh.”

He grinned.

“I have very good reflexes.”

“Clearly.”

I tried to smile.

He leaned closer.

“So, do you believe in love at first sight?”

I hesitated.

“I do.”

“Me too.”

I smiled.

Maybe this date wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought.

Then another insect flew past him.

His eyes followed it.

Both of them.

For the first time that evening, they were perfectly aligned.

He stood up.

“Don’t worry. I got this.”

He swung his arm.

Missed.

Hit the glass of water instead.

CRASH!

The glass fell over.

Water spilled across the table.

The waiter came running.

“Sir! Ma’am! Are you okay?”

My date looked completely calm.

“I’m fine.”

I looked at the water dripping onto my lap.

“I’m... wet.”

He nodded sympathetically.

“Yeah. That happens.”

That was the first time I pretended to receive an emergency phone call.

There was no emergency.

Except me.

The second blind date happened two weeks later.

His name was Mark.

My best friend Maddie had described him as “decisive.”

I should have asked more questions.

Because ten minutes into our dinner, Mark reached into his jacket.

He pulled out a small velvet box.

My heart stopped.

He smiled.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

I stared at the box.

No.

Surely not.

We had only been sitting there for ten minutes.

Maybe this was some kind of romantic gesture.

Maybe he was going to give me a necklace.

Maybe—

He opened the box.

There was a ring inside.

An engagement ring.

I blinked.

“Is that...?”

“An engagement ring.”

I looked around the restaurant.

Nobody else seemed to be paying attention.

I looked back at him.

“You’re joking.”

“No.”

“You’re proposing?”

“Basically.”

“Basically?”

He nodded.

“I don’t like wasting time.”

I slowly put my fork down.

“We just met.”

“I know.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a wedding coordinator.”

“That’s my job.”

“And you like romantic movies.”

“How do you know that?”

“Maddie told me.”

I stared at him.

Maddie.

I was going to kill her.

Mark pushed the ring toward me.

“So, what do you say?”

I laughed nervously.

“About what?”

“Getting married.”

“Today?”

“No. Next month.”

I almost choked.

“Why next month?”

“I’m free.”

I stared at him.

“You’re free?”

“On the fourteenth.”

“I have a wedding that day.”

“Can you move it?”

That was the moment I realized I wasn’t going to die alone.

I was going to die avoiding insane men.

Then came Kevin.

Kevin had muscles.

Lots of muscles.

The kind of muscles that made you wonder if he had ever experienced the concept of a normal shirt.

He sat across from me wearing a tight black shirt.

“Do you work out?” he asked.

“Sometimes.”

“I work out every day.”

He flexed.

“Wow.”

He flexed again.

“Want to feel?”

“No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He flexed his other arm.

“I can bench press two hundred pounds.”

“That’s impressive.”

He flexed his chest.

I stared at him.

Was there a button I could press under the table?

Maybe a secret emergency button specifically designed for women trapped on terrible dates.

Kevin leaned closer.

“Do you like abs?”

“I don’t really have a preference.”

He lifted his shirt.

Right there.

In the restaurant.

I froze.

He smiled proudly.

“Count them.”

I looked away.

“I believe you.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“You’re shy.”

“I’m uncomfortable.”

He laughed.

“I like that.”

I reached for my water.

And accidentally drank from the wrong glass.

His glass.

He stared at me.

I stared at him.

Then I stood up.

“I just remembered I have to go.”

“But the food hasn’t arrived.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

I grabbed my purse.

“Because I suddenly remembered I hate abs.”

Then there was Daniel.

Daniel was handsome.

Actually, very handsome.

He was polite.

He was well-dressed.

He smelled good.

He laughed at my jokes.

He even opened the restaurant door for me.

For the first time in months, I thought—

Maybe.

Maybe this was it.

Maybe I had finally met someone normal.

Then the bill arrived.

Daniel looked at it.

Then he looked at me.

Then he slid it across the table.

“You can pay.”

I blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“I forgot my wallet.”

I stared at him.

“You forgot your wallet?”

“Yes.”

I looked at his expensive watch.

Then his expensive shoes.

Then his expensive phone.

“You forgot your wallet?”

He nodded.

I smiled.

“That’s okay.”

His face relaxed.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

I picked up my phone.

“I’ll call the restaurant manager and tell him you forgot your wallet.”

His smile disappeared.

“What?”

“Maybe they’ll let you wash dishes.”

He stared at me.

I smiled sweetly.

“Since you’re such a good communicator.”

He paid.

Suddenly, his wallet had magically appeared.

Miracles really do happen.

Those were only four.

There were more.

So many more.

There was the man who spent the entire date talking about his ex-girlfriend.

Apparently, she was “the love of his life.”

He cried twice.

I gave him a tissue.

Then he asked if I could help him win her back.

There was another man who brought his mother to the date.

His mother sat beside him.

She asked me about my salary.

My religion.

My plans for children.

And, for some reason, my blood type.

I left before dessert.

Then there was the guy who claimed he was a dog lover.

The moment a tiny Chihuahua walked into the restaurant, he jumped onto his chair.

I asked him, “Aren’t you a dog person?”

He said, “Only big dogs.”

The Chihuahua was the size of a handbag.

He still screamed.

And then there was the guy who told me he was an entrepreneur.

I thought,Finally. A successful, mature man.

Turns out his business was selling homemade scented candles from his bedroom.

Nothing wrong with that.

Except he spent forty-five minutes explaining why his candle company was going to become “the next global empire.”

At the end of the date, he asked me to invest.

I went home with exactly one conclusion.

Love was not looking for me.

It was actively running away from me.

That night, I dropped onto my couch and immediately opened my laptop.

My two best friends appeared on the screen.

Maddie was sitting comfortably in her living room.

Jess was eating chips.

“You’re late,” Jess said.

“I had a date.”

Both of them leaned toward their screens.

“How bad?” Maddie asked.

I stared at them.

“Which one?”

Jess started laughing.

“Wait. There was more than one?”

“I went on four dates this month.”

Maddie covered her mouth.

“Okay. Tell us.”

I took a deep breath.

“First guy was cross-eyed.”

Jess immediately burst out laughing.

“I’m serious!”

“Sorry.”

“He tried to kill a fly.”

“And?”

“He killed the water glass instead.”

Jess almost fell off the couch.

Maddie was laughing too.

“Okay,” she said. “Next.”

“Second guy proposed.”

Both of them stopped.

“WHAT?”

“First date.”

Jess slowly lowered her chips.

“He proposed?”

“With a ring.”

“Did you say yes?”

“I ran away.”

Maddie nodded thoughtfully.

“Maybe you should have considered it.”

I glared at her.

“You’re married. You don’t get to give me terrible advice.”

“I’m just saying. At least he knew what he wanted.”

“He wanted a wife. He didn’t care who.”

Jess raised her hand.

“What about the muscle guy?”

I groaned.

“Oh, God.”

“What happened?”

“He showed me his abs.”

Jess laughed so hard she started coughing.

“And the last one?”

“He made me pay.”

Maddie gasped.

“You paid?”

“No!”

“Good.”

“He suddenly remembered his wallet after I threatened to have him wash dishes.”

Jess wiped tears from her eyes.

“Chloe, your dating life is a television series.”

“I know.”

“You should sell the rights.”

“I’d rather sell my soul.”

They laughed again.

I smiled despite myself.

That was the thing about Maddie and Jess.

They could make me laugh even when I wanted to cry.

Maddie eventually softened.

“Chloe, maybe you’re just waiting for the right person.”

I looked at her.

“I know.”

“You’ll find him.”

Jess nodded.

“Eventually.”

I sighed.

“I hope so.”

Because beneath all the jokes, I really did hope so.

I still believed there was someone out there for me.

I just didn’t know when he would arrive.

The next morning, I had to remind myself that my actual life wasn’t about dating.

It was about weddings.

And weddings were my specialty.

I had spent more than a decade helping people organize the most important day of their lives.

That morning, I arrived at the venue at seven in the morning.

By eight, the bride was crying.

By eight-fifteen, the groom was missing.

By eight-thirty, the flowers were delivered to the wrong entrance.

By eight-forty-five, someone had broken a microphone.

And at nine, the bride’s mother was yelling at the caterer.

I stood in the middle of the chaos with a clipboard in one hand and a phone in the other.

“Where’s the groom?”

“Parking lot!”

“Get him.”

“The flowers?”

“Move them to the ballroom.”

“The microphone?”

“Use the backup.”

“The mother of the bride?”

I pointed toward the garden.

“Give her cake.”

“Cake?”

“Trust me.”

Ten minutes later, everything was under control.

The bride walked down the aisle.

The groom looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

Everyone cried.

Including me.

I always cried.

It was embarrassing.

I could organize an entire wedding without losing my mind.

But put a romantic scene in front of me and suddenly I was emotionally unemployed.

At the end of the ceremony, the bride hugged me.

“Thank you.”

I smiled.

“You’re welcome.”

She whispered, “You’ll find your person too.”

I froze.

“How did you—”

She laughed.

“Your best friends told me.”

I looked at Maddie and Jess, who were standing several feet away.

They waved.

I mouthed:

I hate you.

They laughed.

That night, I went home exhausted.

I changed into comfortable clothes, made popcorn, and turned on my favorite romantic movie.

The couple on the screen finally found each other.

They kissed.

The music played.

I smiled.

Then my smile slowly disappeared.

I looked around my quiet living room.

“Will it happen to me?”

I whispered.

I knew it sounded ridiculous.

But I didn’t care.

“Will my Mr. Right ever come?”

I hugged my knees.

“Because I’m getting tired of waiting.”

I stared at the television.

“Maybe I’m thirty-five.”

I sighed.

“Maybe I’m supposed to stop believing in fairy tales.”

Outside, a loud beeping sound interrupted the movie.

BEEP.

BEEP.

BEEP.

I frowned.

“What now?”

I stood up and walked toward the window.

A huge moving truck was parked in front of the house next door.

The house had been empty for months.

I watched the movers unload boxes.

Then I heard it.

The deep roar of a motorcycle.

A black motorcycle turned into the driveway.

The rider stopped.

He removed his helmet.

I couldn’t see his face clearly from where I stood.

He was tall.

Dark-haired.

Wearing a black shirt.

He looked around the house.

Then suddenly...

he looked up.

Straight toward my window.

I froze.

For some reason, I stopped breathing.

He couldn’t possibly see me through the glass.

Could he?

Then he smiled.

Not a sweet smile.

Not a friendly smile.

A slow, amused smile.

I immediately stepped away from the window.

“Nope.”

I pulled the curtain shut.

“Absolutely not.”

I had spent thirty-five years waiting for my happily-ever-after.

I wasn’t about to let some handsome stranger with a motorcycle convince me that the universe had finally answered my prayers.

I turned around.

Three seconds later—

KNOCK.

I froze.

Another knock.

KNOCK.

I stared at the front door.

“Please don’t.”

A man’s voice came from the other side.

“Hey, neighbor.”

My eyes widened.

I slowly walked toward the door.

I placed my hand on the doorknob.

And before I could open it, he spoke again.

“Your car is blocking my driveway.”

I closed my eyes.

I opened the door.

And there he was.

The man from next door.

Up close, he was even more annoyingly handsome.

He pointed toward the street.

“Your car.”

I looked behind me.

Then at him.

“That isn’t my car.”

He blinked.

“Oh.”

Silence.

He looked at the car.

Then back at me.

“Right.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Anything else?”

He smiled.

“No.”

He turned around and walked away.

I watched him cross the yard.

Then, just before he reached his motorcycle, he looked back at me.

That same irritating smile appeared on his face.

And for reasons I couldn’t explain...

my heart skipped a beat.

I immediately frowned.

“No.”

He put on his helmet.

The motorcycle roared to life.

I stood there watching him disappear down the street.

Then I slowly closed the door.

I leaned against it.

“Definitely not.”

I looked toward the ceiling.

“If that’s my Mr. Right...”

I sighed.

“Please, God.”

A beat.

“Send him back.”

I had no idea that the man who had just moved next door...

was about to become the biggest problem in my life.