Roseanne hadn't experienced the rush of doing manual labor in forever.
Living with Murray for those years, she didn’t have the maids waiting on hand and foot, but she steered clear of any heavy lifting. Even in the early days, when Murray's startup was getting off the ground when money was tight, they still had a cleaning lady come weekly for the house chores.
After finishing a can of paint, Roseanne stretched her aching back. Being pampered for years had made her soft. She went to the hallway, planning to bring in the rest of the paint.
But, in her haste, she knocked over the can. Though she acted quickly, a small spill still spread on her next-door neighbor's doorstep. She grabbed a mop instantly, but as she was halfway through cleaning, the previously shut door suddenly opened.
Their eyes met, and as she was about to apologize, she found herself face-to-face with a familiar person.
"You live here?"
"Owen?"
Both spoke at the same time.
Owen glanced at the mess at his feet, then back at her. "So, the new tenant is you?"
Roseanne hadn't expected such a coincidence. "As you can see, we're neighbors now."
Owen's gaze shifted subtly. He had chosen to live there because it was close to the lab and university, making it convenient for teaching students and conducting experiments.
But why Roseanne? The environment wasn't ideal for a young woman, not least because of the lack of an elevator, which wouldn't be a first choice for the younger crowd.
Roseanne thought he was upset about the spill in the hallway. "Sorry about the mess with the paint. I'll have it cleaned up in no time."
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