For the next few hours, I threw myself into the task of cleaning and organizing.
I carefully hung up my and Richard's clothes in the spacious walk-in closet, trying not to dwell on how my modest wardrobe barely filled a quarter of the available space.
My husband's designer suits and expensive shoes, on the other hand, seemed right at home in such luxurious surroundings.
Evening approached.
I decided to take a break from unpacking and do some baking instead.
Cooking had always been a source of comfort for me, a way to center myself when life felt chaotic or overwhelming.
I spent the next hour or so in the gleaming gourmet kitchen, losing myself in the familiar rhythms of measuring, mixing, and folding.
The result of my efforts was two batches of my signature cakes – one a rich chocolate fudge, the other a delicate lemon poppyseed.
As they cooled on the marble countertop, filling the air with their tempting aromas, I carefully packed them into decorative boxes I had bought specifically for welcoming the neighbors.
I took a moment to freshen up once the cakes were safely nestled in their containers, changing into a simple but elegant sundress and touching up my makeup.
Then I gathered my courage and headed to the neighboring villa, determined to make a good impression on whoever lived there.
The house next door was similar in size and style to our own, with the same imposing facade and manicured grounds.
There was a flutter of nervousness in my gut as I walked up to the front door, my arms heavy with cake boxes.
What if they weren't home? What if they didn't want to be bothered by their new neighbor?
I took a deep breath to steady myself before reaching out and pressing the doorbell.
The chimes echoed faintly from within the house, and I waited with bated breath for a response.
A female voice sounded through the intercom beside the door after a few moments that felt like an eternity.
"Hello? Who is it?" the voice asked, seaming slightly suspicious.
I cleared my throat and answered as formally and politely as I could manage. "Good evening! I'm your new neighbor – I just moved in next door today. Is the lady of the house available?"
There was a brief pause, then the sound of the door's electronic lock disengaging. "Oh! Of course, please come in," the voice replied, warmth replacing the earlier wariness.
I stepped inside an entryway similar to my own, though decorated in a completely different style.
Where my house was all cool neutrals and modern minimalism, this one was warm and inviting, with rich jewel tones and eclectic artwork adorning the walls.
"I'll be right down!" the female voice called from somewhere upstairs. "Make yourself comfortable in the living room."
I had just set the cake boxes down on a nearby side table when I caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye.
Turning, I saw a slender woman descending the curved staircase with a bright smile lighting up her face.
"Welcome!" she exclaimed happily before coming to a stop in front of me. "I'm so excited to meet our new neighbor!"
She pursed her lips when she realized she hadn't introduced herself properly, so she quickly added, "Oh, I'm Kim Minnie, by the way. And you are...?"
I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again, suddenly flustered. In all the excitement of moving and meeting new people, I had momentarily forgotten my own name. "Lawson..." I started, then shook my head, correcting myself. "I mean, Emmeline Maine. I'm sorry, I often forget that I'm married now and not used to my new surname."
Minnie's smile widened and her eyes twinkled with understanding. "No worries at all! It's a pleasure to meet you, Emmeline. Welcome to the neighborhood!"
I was impressed by Minnie's appearance as we stood there. She was strikingly beautiful, with long, silky hair that fell in gentle waves over her shoulders.
Her lean body was hugged by a short white dress that accentuated her curves without being overly revealing.
There was an effortless grace to her movements, reminding me of a dancer or perhaps a model.
"You are very beautiful, Miss Kim," I found myself saying before I could stop the words from tumbling out.
Minnie's eyes sparkled with pleasure at my compliment and a light blush colored her cheeks. "Thank you so much for the kind words, Emmeline. It really means a lot coming from someone as pretty as you. And please, just call me Minnie – no need for formalities between neighbors!"
I felt slightly embarrassed by my own forwardness and quickly gestured to the cake boxes I had brought. "I hope you like sweets. I baked these as a simple introduction gift. Cakes are my specialty, and honestly, I couldn't think of a better idea for introducing myself."
Minnie's eyes lit up as she peered through the transparent lids of the boxes, taking in the sight of the beautifully decorated cakes inside. "Oh my goodness, these look absolutely divine!" she exclaimed. "I'm a total cookie monster, so these are perfect. I can't wait to share them with my husband when he gets home from work. I'm sure they'll be delicious since you made them yourself."
She paused. “Would you mind coming in for some tea?”
She extended her arm to gently touch my elbow in a friendly gesture.
I smiled warmly at Minnie, feeling nervousness and excitement at the prospect of making a new friend. "Gladly, I'd love to come in for some tea," I replied, my voice betraying a hint of eagerness.
She escorted me inside. Her face brightened with a friendly glow that seemed to light up the entire foyer.
The entryway was spacious and elegantly decorated, with a crystal chandelier hanging overhead and a plush oriental rug beneath our feet.
"I was wondering what kind of people would move into the house next door," Minnie confided as we walked. "I wished there would be a woman around my age that I could befriend and spend time with. You have no idea how thrilled I am that there's finally someone new I can chat with and get to know!"
Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I found myself relaxing slightly.
As we entered what appeared to be the living room, Minnie turned to face me fully and gave me an appraising look with her warm brown eyes.
They were framed by long, dark lashes that I envied a little.
A dimpled smile played across her lips, revealing perfect white teeth.
"You look younger than me, if I'm being honest," she said in a light and teasing tone.
We crossed the long tiled hallway into the spacious sitting room, where plush cream-colored sofas were arranged in a cozy semicircle around a glass coffee table.
The walls were adorned with tasteful abstract paintings, and large windows let in plenty of natural light.
"I'm twenty-five years old," I admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
Her smile widened at my surprised expression, crinkling the corners of her eyes in an endearing way. "I'm only five years older than you, that's great! We'll have so much in common. I just know it."
She pointed sympathetically to one of the wide tufted sofas, whose fabric was a soft, inviting beige. "Hey, make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in just a minute – I want to grab some snacks to go with our tea."
I sat nervously on the plush couch, feeling the soft velvet fabric beneath my fingertips. My eyes roamed around the room, taking in the family photos on the mantle and the children's toys neatly tucked away in a corner.
It had been so long since new people entered my life in this new city, and I found myself both excited and anxious about this budding friendship.