I Went to Return My Neighbor’s Pliers – When He Opened the Door, My Legs Gave Out and I Shouted, ‘What Does It All Mean?!

There was a pause.

There was nothing more to say after that. I didn’t tell my husband the neighbor’s name.

I didn’t tell him the pliers were still on our counter.

And I sure as heck didn’t ask if he still missed me, or if he noticed the difference between silence and distance.

Later that afternoon, I finally picked up the pliers, slipped on a pair of sandals, and walked two flights down. Jake’s door was slightly ajar.

I hesitated, then knocked lightly.