Rebecca found solace in structuring her life to fend off the shadows of depression. After her divorce, this had been her coping mechanism — a steady routine with no room for the blues. But one morning, a stranger upended this carefully balanced life.

Awakening in the subdued light of her bedroom, Rebecca lay still, fixing her gaze on the clock. The digits displayed 6:29. She drew a calm breath, waiting for it to shift.

Right as it transitioned to 6:30, she silenced the alarm efficiently. Rising with precision, she cast off the covers and stood, her movements a practiced dance.

She meticulously made her bed, ensuring every corner was crisp, every wrinkle smoothed out, creating an oasis of order amid life’s chaos.

Her bathroom was the epitome of order too — toothbrushes in place, soap positioned perfectly, and a small mirror reflecting her well-practiced expression. At 47, her face bore the quiet marks of a life lived — experiences etched lightly yet clearly. Seven years post-divorce, the pain had dimmed but left a permanent mark.

Rebecca’s response was strict routine, a comforting cocoon of discipline that rendered life’s unpredictability somewhat manageable.

By 7:00 a.m., she was prepared for her jog and stepped outside. Morning runs transformed into her fortress, fortifying her physically and mentally through audiobooks.

Yet, for the last month, her peace had been subtly yet persistently disrupted by Charlie, her neighbor whose spirited greetings nudged into her solitude.

Charlie emerged daily, brimming with enthusiasm, from the house across the street. This morning, too, Rebecca saw him jog out excitedly, sneakers barely on, determined to join her.

Trying to discourage him, she quickened her pace, eyes forward and focus unwavering. But Charlie wouldn’t give up easily.

“Rebecca! It’s me!” his voice rang out, as usual, cheerful. She pressed on, pretending she hadn’t heard. Charlie was soon by her side, gasping but grinning.

“You’re quick as always,” he puffed, trying to pace himself with her.

Pretending surprise, she removed an earbud. “Oh, didn’t see you there,” she replied, annoyance tinged with humor.

He apologized, making a flustered remark about tardiness, but seemed thrilled just being there with her.

Rebecca gave a small nod, poised to tune him out again when he interjected with a question.

“Want to hear a joke?” His unfading enthusiasm was both endearing and trying.

“Save your breath,” she advised lightly, but he pressed on.

“Why did the scarecrow get a promotion?” came the setup.

A sigh, then surrender. “Why?”

“Because he was outstanding in his field!” he concluded triumphantly, and despite herself, Rebecca chuckled.

Even as she stifled it, her reaction had gladdened him.

“Progress!” Charlie declared, beaming as if having won something significant.

Rebecca picked up speed again, distancing herself slightly, yet her mornings became incomplete without Charlie’s appearances.

His playful banter gradually brightened her mood, and she often found herself slowing down to enjoy more of his company.

The laughter and silly jokes, which she initially dismissed, left her smiling, even longing for more. His jovial spirit had ambling into the fortress she had painstakingly built.

On this particular morning, as she peeked out her window, she noticed an uncharacteristic stillness at Charlie’s place. No bounding figure, no cheerful waves. Odd.

Concern turned to worry when there was no sign of him. She hesitated at first, trying to shake the unease. But minutes flew by, and doubt sunk its claws in.

Taking a deep breath, she decided to approach his door, hoping her fears were baseless. Knocking firmly, she waited, willing him to emerge with an excuse.

However, silence greeted her, and she tried again. As she peered through a window, hoping for some movement inside, her heart sank further. Nothing.

“Charlie! Are you there?” she called, her voice pitched to reach him wherever he might be hiding. “Come on, don’t miss out!” Her words echoed unanswered.

Just then, an elderly neighbor’s voice cut through. “Who’s making all that noise?” startled Rebecca turned to see Mrs. Lewis watching curiously.

“Sorry, Mrs. Lewis,” Rebecca said, embarrassed by her clamor. “I usually run with Charlie, but he’s… absently today,” she confessed, doubt threading her tone.

Mrs. Lewis shook her head, looking alarmed. “Oh, lass, Charlie was taken to the hospital last night by ambulance.”

Rebecca’s heart lurched. “Hospital? What’s befallen him?”

Mrs. Lewis sighed, brimming with concern. “I saw an ambulance in the night, but nothing more. It’s shameful him being alone with no kin around.”

Rebecca stood, processing the grim tidings. The neighbor she had but briefly known had woven himself into her life significantly. Without hesitation, she thanked Mrs. Lewis and rushed to gather her things, determined to find him.

As she stepped into the hospital, adrenaline surged through her senses. Offering a slight apology, she swiftly located the reception, eager to track Charlie.

“Good morning,” she began, fighting nerves. “I’m looking for… Charlie. He was brought in overnight.”

The receptionist inquired for a last name, a question that dismayed Rebecca. “I don’t… just Charlie,” she admitted sheepishly.

The receptionist offered a cautious look. “Family or close family is only allowed, usually.”

Rebecca, feeling the stakes, declared on impulse. “I’m his girlfriend,” the words spilling before reconsideration.

The receptionist smiled knowingly. “Girlfriend, huh?” Completing clicks, she nodded. “You oughta learn his last name – you’ll need it! Charlie Sanders, Room 113, follow me.”

Rebecca murmured her gratitude, her heart easing with every step beside the cheery receptionist.

Even before reaching the destination, laughter issued from the room, distilling her fears. Charlie’s voice, full and light-hearted, brought warmth amidst hospital starkness.

Knocking delicately, the receptionist broke the news of a visitor. “Charlie, a lady claims she’s your girlfriend,” she teased, eyeing Rebecca.

Charlie lit up at the sight of her entrance. “Yes! Rebecca, come on,” he beamed, gesturing eagerly.

His humor relieved Rebecca as she crossed the threshold and crashed beside him, seeing reassurance cloaked in hospital raiment.

“Girlfriend, huh?” Charlie wearied, mischief in his tone.

“Means to an end,” she replied brusquely. “Why did you miss our run?” she scolded, concern disavowed facade.

Charlie adjusted, explaining. “Embarrassing it is… I’m warned off intensive exercise, with a heart condition.”

Rebecca felt regret, chiding him softly. “Why hide this? You should prioritize health!”

His visage softened, confiding. “Wanted time with you, plain and simple.”

Appreciatively, Rebecca grasped his hand gently, “”No need to run miles – come over for dinner instead, then.”

This brought a broad anticipation on his face, “Far better for both our pulses” he quipped, gratefulness accentuating his vowels.

Rebecca chuckled, tension easing with mutual warmth of sharing amicable company in place of relentless runs, envisioning an evening to a newer rhythm of companionship.