His Little Secret Ch. 02

HIS LITTLE SECRET

Chapter Two: The Secret Behind the Door

There are two things I've learned about men.

The first is that they rarely tell you everything.

The second is that the things they try hardest to hide are often the things they fear you'll judge them for.

I didn't know which category Daniel belonged to when I woke up on Sunday morning, but I couldn't stop thinking about him.

It was ridiculous, really. We'd had dinner twice if I counted the food I'd taken to his house, and yet I found myself wondering what he was doing, whether he'd had breakfast, and whether he was thinking about our conversation the previous evening.

I was a grown woman. I had a job, bills to pay, and enough experience with men to know better than to become fascinated by a neighbor simply because he smiled at me.

And yet, there I was, standing in my kitchen with a cup of coffee, looking through the window toward his house.

"Get a grip, Vanessa," I muttered.

I turned away from the window.

Then my phone rang.

It was my friend Michelle.

"Why do you sound like somebody stole your breakfast?" she asked after I answered.

"Good morning to you too."

"Don't change the subject. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Ah. That kind of nothing."

I rolled my eyes. Michelle had known me long enough to recognize when I was hiding something.

"I met someone," I admitted eventually.

There was a brief silence.

Then she screamed.

I pulled the phone away from my ear. "Are you insane?"

"YOU MET SOMEONE?"

"Please lower your voice. The whole neighborhood doesn't need to know."

"Who is he? What's his name? Is he handsome?"

I glanced through the window again.

"His name is Daniel."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Vanessa, don't make me come over there."

I laughed despite myself. "He's my neighbor. He's handsome, quiet, and a little shy."

"Your type."

"I don't have a type."

"Of course you don't. That's why you've described him like you're writing a romance novel."

I ended the call before she could embarrass me any further.

Unfortunately, she had a point.

There was something about Daniel that made me want to know him better. I wasn't sure whether it was his quiet nature or the feeling that he was always holding something back.

Whatever it was, I had a feeling I wouldn't remain curious for long.

I was right.

I simply hadn't expected to discover his secret by accident.

***

That afternoon, I decided to take a walk.

The weather was pleasant, and I'd spent too much of the morning indoors. I locked my front door and stepped outside just as Daniel emerged from his house.

He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and jeans, with his car keys in one hand.

For a moment, we stared at each other.

Then he smiled.

"Hey, Vanessa."

"Look at that. The mysterious neighbor is alive."

He laughed. "I didn't realize I'd become mysterious."

"You have. It's a serious condition."

"Is there a cure?"

"Possibly. I'm still researching."

He shook his head, smiling.

I liked how easily I could make him laugh when he stopped worrying about himself.

"Going somewhere?" I asked.

"Just to the supermarket. I need a few things."

"Perfect. I'm heading out too. I'll walk with you."

He looked surprised.

"You want to come?"

"Daniel, it's a supermarket, not a dangerous expedition."

He laughed again. "Fair enough."

We walked together, talking about ordinary things. I learned that he enjoyed old movies, preferred cooking at home to eating out, and had a habit of buying books he sometimes took months to finish.

He asked about my work and listened attentively while I complained about a colleague who seemed determined to make everyone's life difficult.

By the time we returned, I was beginning to understand why I'd found him so interesting.

Daniel wasn't boring.

He was simply careful about letting people get close.

And for reasons I couldn't quite explain, I wanted to be someone he didn't have to be careful around.

When we reached our houses, I stopped at my gate.

"Are you free this evening?"

He hesitated. "Why?"

"I was thinking we could watch a movie. My treat."

His eyes widened slightly.

"You don't have to keep inviting me over."

"I know."

"Then why do you?"

I looked at him.

It was a fair question, and for once, I decided not to hide behind a joke.

"Because I enjoy your company."

He became quiet.

Then he smiled, and something in his expression softened.

"Okay," he said. "I'd like that."

"Eight o'clock."

"I'll be there."

I watched him disappear into his house, feeling pleased with myself.

Eight o'clock couldn't come soon enough.

***

At precisely eight, Daniel knocked on my door.

I had prepared popcorn, arranged cushions on the sofa, and spent far too long choosing a movie. When I opened the door, he held up a small paper bag.

"I brought something."

I peered inside.

Chocolate.

I looked up at him.

"You brought me chocolate?"

"I didn't know what else to bring."

I smiled. "You're learning."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Don't get used to them."

He laughed and stepped inside.

We settled on the sofa and started the movie, but I quickly discovered that Daniel was terrible at pretending to pay attention when he didn't like something.

Halfway through, I caught him checking his phone for the third time.

"Are you bored?"

"No."

"Daniel."

He sighed. "A little."

I burst out laughing.

"You're unbelievable. You could have told me."

"I didn't want to offend you."

"It's a movie, not my wedding."

He laughed so hard that he had to put his phone down.

I changed the movie, and we eventually found one we both enjoyed. Somewhere along the way, the distance between us on the sofa grew smaller.

It wasn't deliberate.

At least, not entirely.

Our shoulders touched occasionally, and neither of us moved away.

I became aware of little things: the clean scent of his cologne, the way his expression changed when he laughed, and how his voice grew softer when he spoke about things that mattered to him.

I was beginning to like him.

That realization should have made me cautious.

Instead, it made me curious about what would happen next.

***

The movie ended shortly after ten.

Daniel stood and stretched.

"I should probably go."

"Already?"

He glanced at me, amused.

"Do you want me to stay?"

The question caught me off guard.

I lifted my chin. "Don't flatter yourself."

He laughed.

"Goodnight, Vanessa."

"Goodnight, Daniel."

I walked him to the door.

As he stepped outside, I noticed something on his sleeve.

A tiny dark thread, almost invisible against the fabric.

I reached out instinctively and brushed it away.

"There."

He looked down at my hand, then back at me.

For a brief moment, neither of us spoke.

It was the kind of silence that could mean absolutely nothing.

Or it could mean that two people were beginning to notice each other in a different way.

I couldn't tell which.

Daniel cleared his throat.

"Thanks for tonight."

"You're welcome."

He smiled and crossed the garden.

I closed the door, leaned against it, and let out a quiet laugh.

I was in trouble.

Not serious trouble. Not yet.

But the kind of trouble that began when an interesting man became someone you looked forward to seeing every day.

I had no idea how much more complicated things were about to become.

***

Two days later, I discovered something I wasn't supposed to see.

It happened on an ordinary Tuesday evening.

I had just returned from work when I noticed Daniel's front door wasn't completely closed. He must have stepped outside to collect something, because I could see a package resting near his doorstep.

I picked it up and knocked.

"Daniel?"

No answer.

I knocked again.

"Your delivery!"

Still nothing.

I was about to leave it beside the door when I heard a faint sound from inside.

Something dropped.

Then a hurried shuffle.

"Daniel? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" he called.

His voice sounded strained.

I frowned.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Just give me a minute."

I stood there, holding the package, feeling increasingly awkward.

I wasn't the sort of woman who barged into other people's houses. Privacy mattered to me, and I expected the same courtesy in return.

But then I heard him mutter something I couldn't quite make out.

A few seconds later, the door opened.

Daniel stood before me wearing a loose shirt and trousers.

His hair looked slightly disheveled, and his cheeks were flushed.

"Hey," he said quickly. "Sorry about that."

I held out the package.

"Your delivery."

"Thank you."

He took it, but before he could close the door, I noticed something behind him.

A pair of black high heels.

Not the sort of shoes I'd expect to find beside a man's sofa.

I blinked.

Then I noticed a makeup brush on the small table near the hallway.

My gaze moved back to Daniel.

He had followed my eyes.

And suddenly, the color drained from his face.

Neither of us spoke.

I could almost see him searching for an explanation, trying to decide what to say before I could ask a question.

But I didn't ask one.

I looked at him, then at the shoes, then back at him.

Finally, I handed him the package properly.

"Well," I said gently, "I suppose everybody has their own way of spending a Tuesday evening."

His lips parted, but no words came out.

I gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to interrogate you on your doorstep."

He looked as though he wasn't sure whether to believe me.

I understood that look.

Whatever I'd stumbled upon, it clearly mattered to him.

And I had no intention of turning his private life into neighborhood gossip.

"I'll see you around, Daniel."

I turned and walked toward my house.

I could feel his eyes following me, but I didn't look back.

Not because I wasn't curious.

I was extremely curious.

But curiosity didn't give me the right to demand an explanation from someone who wasn't ready to offer one.

That evening, I sat on my bed and thought about what I'd seen.

The heels.

The makeup brush.

His frightened expression.

I replayed the moment several times, trying to understand why he'd looked so terrified of being discovered.

Then a thought occurred to me.

What if he wasn't afraid of what I'd seen?

What if he was afraid of what I'd think of him?

I lay back against my pillows and stared at the ceiling.

I didn't know Daniel's secret yet.

Not completely.

But I knew this much: whatever he was hiding, he believed it was something he had to face alone.

And for the first time since meeting him, I wanted something more than the chance to get closer to my handsome neighbor.

I wanted him to know that he didn't have to be ashamed of himself around me.

I just had to find a way to tell him.

And I had a feeling that our next conversation would change everything.

*To be continued...*