The elevator in Maple Heights Apartment Complex wheezed like an old man climbing stairs. Zara Chen shifted the weight of her cardboard box, listening to the mechanical groans as they passed the second floor. Inside the box, her coffee mugs clinked together in protest.
"Come on," she muttered to the elevator, as if encouraging it would make the ancient machinery move faster.
It had been a long Saturday of moving. Maya had shown up at seven in the morning with coffee and pastries from her shop, along with David and his surprisingly helpful friends. The actual move had gone smoothly, though Zara had noticed the tension between Maya and David simmering beneath their polite interactions.
The doors finally opened on the fourth floor with a reluctant ding. Zara stepped out, her sneakers squeaking against the polished linoleum. The hallway stretched before her, fluorescent lights casting everything in a sterile white glow. Unit 4B. Her new home for the foreseeable future.
She balanced the box against her hip while fumbling for her keys. This was her third trip up today, and her legs were feeling it. The movers had handled the furniture and heavy items, but she'd insisted on personally transporting anything fragile or sentimental.
The lock clicked open, and she pushed the door with her shoulder. The apartment smelled like fresh paint and possibility. Her furniture looked strange in the new space, like actors performing in the wrong theater, but she knew it would feel like home eventually.
"Last box?" Maya called from the kitchen, where she was organizing Zara's dishes with characteristic efficiency.
"Last box of fragile things," Zara confirmed, setting it down on the counter. "David and his friends are bringing up the final load now."
Maya nodded, but didn't look up from the cabinet she was arranging. She'd been quieter than usual all day, going through the motions of helping but with an underlying distraction that Zara recognized.
"Everything okay?" Zara asked, though she suspected she knew the answer.
"David wants to leave soon. He has three tutoring sessions this afternoon, including a new client consultation." Maya's voice was carefully neutral, the tone of someone trying not to sound disappointed. "I told him I'd catch a ride home with you later."
"On a Saturday?"
"The new client specifically requested weekend availability, and David doesn't want to turn down the income." Maya shrugged, but Zara could see the tension in her shoulders. "It's fine. Moving day is more fun with just us anyway."
Before Zara could respond, the sound of male voices and heavy footsteps filled the hallway. David appeared in the doorway, followed by his two friends carrying Zara's bookshelf.
"Where do you want this?" asked Jake, the taller of David's friends.
"Living room, against the far wall," Zara directed, stepping aside to let them maneuver the furniture through the narrow doorway.
David surveyed the apartment with the appraising look of someone mentally calculating square footage and rent costs. "Nice place," he said, though his tone suggested he was thinking more about practical concerns than aesthetics. "Good location for your new job."
"That was the idea," Zara agreed. "Fifteen-minute commute beats forty-five minutes any day."
"Smart move. Location is everything in real estate." David glanced at his watch, a gesture Zara had noticed him making repeatedly throughout the morning. "Speaking of moves, I should probably head out soon. The new client is paying premium rates, and I don't want to be late."
Maya's smile was bright and understanding, but Zara caught the flash of disappointment before her friend composed herself. "Of course. Thanks for helping this morning."
"No problem." David leaned over to kiss Maya's cheek, a perfunctory gesture that felt more like checking an item off a to-do list. "I'll call you tonight."
After David and his friends left, the apartment felt significantly quieter. Maya busied herself with unpacking kitchen items while Zara organized her bedroom, both women lost in their own thoughts.
"You know," Maya said during a break, sitting on the couch with a bottle of water, "I actually think David was a little jealous of your new place."
"Jealous how?"
"The location, the independence, the fresh start." Maya gestured around the apartment. "He's been talking about wanting to upgrade his own place, but he's putting all his money back into the tutoring business."
Zara joined her on the couch, sensing there was more to this story. "And that bothers you?"
"Not the business investment, that makes sense. But..." Maya hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Sometimes I feel like I'm dating his five-year plan instead of him. Everything is about building for the future, preparing for success, making strategic decisions. There's no room for spontaneity or just... enjoying the present."
It was the most honest thing Maya had said about her relationship in weeks, and Zara treaded carefully. "Have you talked to him about that?"
"How do you tell someone you love that their ambition is suffocating you?" Maya laughed, but there was no humor in it. "He'd say I'm being short-sighted, not thinking about our future together."
"Your future together, or his future that he's assuming you'll be part of?"
Maya was quiet for a moment, processing the question. "I don't know anymore. Sometimes it feels like the same thing, sometimes it doesn't."
Before Zara could respond, a sound from the hallway caught their attention. The jingle of keys, followed by a door opening and closing. Her neighbor in 4A was home.
"That's probably my neighbor," Zara said, grateful for the interruption. The conversation about David was heading into territory that would only frustrate both of them.
"Have you met them yet?"
"Briefly, when I came to sign the lease. He seems quiet, professional. The landlord said he's reliable and keeps to himself."
Maya perked up with interest. "He? Single?"
"Maya."
"What? I'm just asking. You're starting fresh in a new place - maybe that includes being open to new possibilities."
Zara rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "My neighbor possibilities are limited to normal neighbor interactions. I'm not looking to complicate my living situation with dating drama."
"Who said anything about drama? Maybe he's perfect neighbor boyfriend material - close enough for convenience, separate enough for independence."
"You watch too many romantic comedies."
"And you don't watch enough."
They returned to unpacking, the earlier tension about David's departure dissolving into their familiar banter about relationships and life choices. As the afternoon wore on, the apartment began to look more like home. Zara's books found their places on the shelves, her artwork went up on the walls, and her kitchen gradually became functional.
Around four o'clock, they were debating the optimal placement of Zara's coffee table when another sound came from next door - music, soft enough to be considerate but audible through the shared wall.
"Good taste," Maya observed, recognizing the jazz standard that was playing. "Definitely not a college student."
"The landlord said he's a young professional. Works downtown."
"Same area as your new job?"
"Probably. Half the city works downtown." Zara positioned the coffee table and stepped back to evaluate the placement. "Perfect. I think we're officially done with the major furniture arrangement."
Maya flopped back on the couch dramatically. "Thank God. I love you, but I'm not built for manual labor."
"Says the woman who's on her feet twelve hours a day running a kitchen."
"That's different. That's organized chaos, not heavy lifting."
Zara laughed, settling beside her friend on the couch. The apartment felt good - lived-in despite being brand new to her, comfortable in a way her old place had never quite achieved.
"I like it here already," she said, looking around at the afternoon light streaming through the windows.
"It suits you. Clean slate, good energy, close to work but far enough from Marcus to breathe."
At the mention of her ex-fling, Zara felt a moment of relief. She hadn't thought about Marcus all day, which was progress. The constant text messages and unexpected visits had been wearing on her more than she'd admitted, even to herself.
"Speaking of breathing," Maya continued, "what's your plan for meeting people? Work friends, neighbor friends, maybe someone special?"
"My plan is to focus on my career and enjoy having my own space without drama."
"That's not a plan, that's avoidance."
"It's strategic simplicity."
Maya shook her head, but she was smiling. "You're impossible. But I love that you know what you want, even if what you want is to be alone."
"I don't want to be alone forever," Zara clarified. "I just want to be selective about who I share my space and energy with. Quality over quantity."
"And if the perfect person shows up?"
"Then I'll deal with that when it happens. But I'm not going looking for complications."
As if summoned by their conversation, footsteps sounded in the hallway, followed by a quiet thud - someone setting something heavy down by their door.
"That's probably your mysterious neighbor," Maya whispered conspiratorially.
"Probably picking up a delivery. Normal neighbor behavior."
"You should introduce yourself properly. Bring him cookies or something."
"I don't bake, Maya."
"I could make you cookies to give him. Neighborly gesture."
Zara stared at her friend with amusement. "You want to make cookies for my neighbor who I've barely met so I can use them as an excuse to talk to him?"
"It's called being friendly!"
"It's called meddling."
The footsteps retreated, and they heard the door to 4A close softly. Maya looked disappointed at the missed opportunity for orchestrated neighbor interaction.
"Fine, but when you're lonely in your perfectly organized, drama-free apartment, don't come crying to me."
"I'll be sure to suffer in stoic silence," Zara promised solemnly.
They spent the rest of the afternoon finishing the unpacking and arranging. Maya proved surprisingly good at interior decoration, suggesting furniture placement and organizing systems that made the small space feel larger and more functional.
By early evening, the apartment was essentially complete. Zara's clothes were hung in the closet, her bathroom was stocked and organized, and her kitchen was ready for actual cooking.
"I should get going," Maya said reluctantly, gathering her purse and the empty moving boxes they'd broken down. "Early morning tomorrow, and I still need to prep for the week."
"Thanks for everything today. I couldn't have done this without you."
"Yes, you could have, but it wouldn't have been nearly as fun." Maya hugged her tightly. "Call me this week. I want to hear about the first day at the new job, and I definitely want updates on the mysterious neighbor."
"There will be no neighbor updates because there will be no neighbor developments."
"We'll see," Maya said with a knowing smile.
After Maya left, Zara found herself alone in her new home for the first time. The silence was different from her old apartment - not empty, exactly, but full of potential. She could hear the subtle sounds of life around her: muted television from downstairs, the hum of the building's ventilation system, and yes, soft music still playing next door.
She made herself dinner - something simple from the groceries Maya had helped her buy that morning - and ate it standing at her kitchen counter while looking out the window at the courtyard below. A few other residents were visible: an elderly couple tending to a small garden plot, a young woman walking a small dog, a man about her age reading on one of the benches.
It was the kind of community she'd hoped for when she'd chosen this building - active enough to feel safe and social, quiet enough to provide the peace she craved.
As night fell, she settled onto her couch with a book, finally allowing herself to feel the satisfaction of a successful day. New apartment, check. New neighborhood, check. Fresh start in a place where no one knew her history or had expectations about her choices, double check.
Monday would bring her first day at Harrison & Associates, another new beginning to navigate. But for tonight, she was content to sit in her own space, listening to the gentle sounds of her new building, and looking forward to the possibilities that lay ahead.
The music from next door had stopped, replaced by the quiet sounds of someone moving around - washing dishes, maybe, or preparing for the week ahead. Just another professional getting ready for Monday morning.
Normal neighbor sounds, she told herself firmly, ignoring Maya's voice in her head suggesting that normal neighbors could become something more interesting with the right approach.
She had no intention of complicating her fresh start with romantic entanglements, no matter how good her neighbor's taste in jazz music might be.