Chapter 2 — The Neighbor Housewife Who Ejaculated — 1 (2)

Just next door—only two or three steps away. Claire said, "Just a second," then reopened her front door, called into the house,"Who is it?"
"It's David. We're eating cake..." came the child's voice from inside. She closed the door and walked toward my place.

Now that I think about it, she never even thanked me for the cake. Not that I wanted gratitude—but usually, she'd be all smiles, warmly saying how much she appreciated it. The fact that she didn't… it made me wonder just how shaken she really was.

She followed me in after I punched in my door code. Oh no—there, on the sofa, was my underwear, thrown carelessly in plain sight. At home, I never wear anything under my shorts—just lounge around in them.

I panicked, snatched it up quickly, and guided her to the sofa.

"Would you like some tea? Anything? Chamomile, jasmine, green tea, coffee?"

"I'm fine, really."

I poured two cups of my favorite jasmine tea anyway and sat beside her.

"What brings you here?"

I couldn't wait. I had to know.

"Um… I…."

"Yes? Please, go on."

I couldn't read her at all. What was she trying to say?
We weren't close—not the kind of neighbors who'd know each other's secrets. And we'd never spent this much time together before.

"Um… Can men really fall in love with women twenty years younger than them?"

"Why do you ask…?"

"It's just…."

Then, suddenly, tears welled up again. What was going on with her?
Part of me felt pity—seeing her cry like that, so broken, made my chest ache.
It had to be her husband. Some young girl? My guess was right.

Her husband—apparently—had fallen for a 21-year-old, packed his bags, and walked out on his wife and kids.
That's why she'd been tossing out his things earlier.

I didn't know how to comfort her, so I said everything I could think of—every bit of wisdom I had, poured out in clumsy sincerity.

I wanted to pull her into my arms, hold her tight—but we weren't that close. So I just handed her tissues, one after another.

After crying her fill, she seemed lighter, as if a weight had lifted. A faint color returned to her cheeks.

I quickly brought her a glass of cold water."Here, drink this. Calm your stomach."

Then, unexpectedly, she cracked a joke.

"Are you giving me cold water to chill my insides?"

"Hahaha!"

"Hohoho!"

We laughed, and just like that, the tension melted. We talked—about her life, mine, everything in between—two hours slipped by without us noticing.

Suddenly, she glanced at the wall clock—and her face turned pale. Oh no—the kids.

Her children had no idea she'd left. They couldn't have been eating cake for two hours straight. If they were crying, I'd have heard them—but it was quiet.

She bolted for her door, panicked. I followed without thinking.
Why did I do that? Maybe I was worried about the kids too.

Inside her apartment, everything was neat—spotless. A large potted plant stood by the window, dishes stacked cleanly in the kitchen.
I caught a glimpse of her character—orderly, careful. I saw her differently now.

In the bedroom, both kids were asleep, face-down in the mess. Cake smeared the floor, the blanket. One still clutched the fork in his tiny hand.
They weren't my children—but watching them sleep, I felt it—pure affection. Like little angels.

As she gently turned them onto their backs and tidied the room, I figured it was time to leave. I said my goodbyes.

She walked me to the door."Thank you so much today. It really helped—just letting it all out." She smiled, soft and faint.

Yeah… smile, Claire. You're beautiful when you smile.

I thought it to myself.

"Don't mention it. From now on, us divorcees gotta stick together. You're a divorcee now too, right?"

Instantly, her smile vanished. A shadow flickered across her face. Shit. Damn it, you idiot—read the room! She got scammed by her husband, got divorced, now she's alone. Laughing at that? Seriously?

But she replied calmly,"Yes… I'll, um… count on you. Senior divorcee."

"Hahaha."

We exchanged one more laugh, and I stepped out.

Back in my room, I thought to myself:
"So she's single now, huh? Huh. Well then… maybe we should get closer. Cooking, dishes—hate all that. Maybe I can get a free meal once in a while. And if things go really well? Hahaha."