There was something special about the afternoons when William walked by your garden, his voice greeting you with a courtesy that seemed from another time. Living next door to such a charming man had made your days much more interesting. At first, you only saw him from a distance, helping his kids out of the car or carrying boxes full of tools from his garage. But one day, as you were watering your plants, he offered you a warm smile and asked about your flowers that’s when it all began.

You had been going out for a couple of weeks, simple outings that brought color to your life. William was the kind of man who made everything feel special. Chivalrous, always attentive, with words that resonated as if he had been carefully thinking about them for hours. He spoke about his children with pride, especially his young daughter, Elizabeth, who always seemed thrilled by the animatronics at the pizzeria.

Today, he had invited you to his house. His kids weren’t home something about visiting a relative and he had promised to make dinner. The house was cozy, a bit darker than you had imagined, but filled with personal, family touches. On the table was a photo of him with his kids, his arm around them, the proud smile of a loving father.

As you sat on the couch, you felt a slight discomfort. It wasn’t anything tangible, just an instinct you couldn’t ignore. There was something about the house that didn’t entirely align with the William you knew.

When he appeared with two glasses of wine, your uneasiness disappeared entirely. That smile of his, so warm and charming, could erase any doubt. You sat with him at the table.

"You seem distracted," he said, leaning in slightly toward you.