Friend Like a Wife (Wifely Hearts #1)

Chapter 1 The Neighbor Who Fixed Everything

A Terrible First Day

The moving truck disappeared around the corner just as Alex Carter dropped the final box onto the polished hardwood floor of his new apartment.

The loud thud echoed through the mostly empty living room before silence settled over the space.

It should have felt like the beginning of something better.

Instead, the apartment felt far too large for one person, and the quiet reminded him of everything he had left behind.

He stood in the middle of the room and slowly looked around.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, filling the apartment with warm afternoon sunlight.

Modern furniture would arrive over the next few days, but for now, cardboard boxes were stacked against freshly painted walls.

It was the kind of luxury apartment people dreamed about owning.

Alex had worked hard enough to afford it, yet the achievement felt strangely hollow.

Three months earlier, he had imagined moving into this place with someone else.

That plan had disappeared the same way his five-year relationship had ended—with quiet conversations that slowly turned into painful silence.

There had been no dramatic betrayal or explosive argument.

They had simply become strangers sharing the same home until one day they admitted the love between them had quietly faded.

Alex had thrown himself into work after the breakup.

As the owner of Carter Construction, he already spent long hours managing projects, meeting clients, and solving problems. Since becoming single, those long hours had become even longer.

If he stayed busy enough, he didn’t have to think about coming home to an empty apartment.

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at the unopened boxes labeled Kitchen. At least cooking would keep him occupied tonight. He wasn’t a talented cook, but he could manage grilled chicken and pasta without setting anything on fire.

That was enough.

Picking up one of the boxes, he carried it into the bright, modern kitchen. The white marble countertops gleamed beneath recessed lighting, and the stainless-steel appliances still smelled new. Everything looked perfect.

Until he heard it.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Alex frowned.

The sound grew louder.

Then came a sharp crack from somewhere beneath the sink.

Before he could react, water burst from a pipe with surprising force, spraying across the cabinets and flooding the floor.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Within seconds, cold water soaked his shoes as it spread across the polished tiles. Alex dropped the box and rushed toward the sink, searching for a shut-off valve while muttering every curse he knew.

The valve refused to turn.

He pulled harder.

Nothing.

The pipe continued spraying water everywhere.

Fantastic.

His first day in the apartment and he was already standing ankle-deep in a miniature lake.

A sharp knock sounded at his front door.

Alex ignored it while wrestling with the stubborn plumbing.

Another knock followed.

“Lucky timing,” he muttered under his breath.

He hurried through the puddles and opened the door.

Standing in the hallway was a man carrying several large towels in one arm and a small toolbox in the other.

“I thought I heard water,” the stranger said with an apologetic smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Alex blinked.

The man looked to be around his age, maybe a little younger.

He was shorter than Alex by several inches, with soft brown hair that curled naturally around his forehead and warm hazel eyes that somehow looked both curious and kind.

He wore an oversized cream-colored sweater with rolled-up sleeves, fitted jeans, and simple white sneakers.

There was nothing flashy about him, yet something about his calm presence immediately eased the tension filling the apartment.

“I think my kitchen is trying to drown me,” Alex admitted.

The stranger peeked around him, spotted the spreading water, and laughed softly.

“Okay... that’s definitely more dramatic than I expected.”

Instead of looking alarmed, he stepped inside as though helping flooded neighbors was part of his daily routine.

“I’m Jamie,” he said while handing Alex several towels. “Apartment 8B. Right next door.”

“Alex.”

“Nice to meet you, Alex. Let’s save your floor before we introduce ourselves properly.”

Jamie set down his toolbox and walked confidently toward the sink. He crouched beneath it, examined the plumbing for only a few seconds, and reached behind the cabinet wall.

“There it is.”

A metallic click echoed through the kitchen.

The rushing water immediately stopped.

Alex stared.

“I spent five minutes looking for that.”

Jamie smiled without a trace of pride.

“They hid the valve behind the support beam when they renovated these apartments. It confuses everyone.”

“You’ve done this before?”

“My washing machine tried to flood the hallway last year.”

Alex couldn’t help smiling for the first time all day.

Together they spread towels across the floor, soaking up the water before it reached the living room. Jamie worked efficiently, occasionally brushing damp hair away from his forehead while calmly directing Alex toward another puddle or handing him a fresh towel.

The comfortable silence between them felt surprisingly natural.

Most people filled silence with unnecessary conversation.

Jamie didn’t.

When they finally finished, both men leaned against opposite countertops, breathing a little harder than before.

“Well,” Jamie said with a small laugh, “I’d say your apartment officially welcomed you.”

Alex looked around the soaked kitchen.

“I’ve definitely had better first impressions.”

Jamie laughed again, and the sound somehow made the apartment feel less empty.

A television mounted in the neighboring apartment could faintly be heard through the shared wall. The evening news was playing while someone discussed recent medical developments.

“...the National Reproductive Health Institute announced expanded access to advanced fertility programs today. Specialists say the latest generation of male gestational treatment continues to improve success rates for couples wishing to start families...”

Neither man paid much attention.

Jamie simply shrugged.

“My aunt has been talking about those treatments for months. Medical science moves faster every year.”

Alex nodded absentmindedly.

“I’ve been so busy working I barely keep up with the news.”

“I think most people are the same.”

The conversation drifted away as naturally as it had appeared.

Jamie picked up the damp towels.

“I should wash these.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He smiled warmly. “But I’d rather help than leave you with one more thing to worry about.”

Alex watched him for a moment.

It had been a long time since someone had offered help without expecting anything in return.

“Thanks.”

Jamie’s smile widened just a little.

“You’re welcome.”

A comfortable silence settled again before Jamie glanced toward the unopened moving boxes scattered around the apartment.

“So...”

Alex looked up.

“I’m guessing dinner plans didn’t survive the flood.”

Alex laughed quietly.

“I was planning on ordering takeout.”

Jamie made a thoughtful face before shifting the towels onto one shoulder.

“I was just about to make fresh coffee.”

He hesitated for only a second.

“I also baked way too much focaccia this morning.”

Alex raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Jamie rested one hand on the open doorway.

“You can eat takeout alone while unpacking boxes...”

His smile turned playful.

“...or you can come next door, have real food, decent coffee, and meet your neighbor properly.”

Alex glanced around the half-empty apartment.

The silence suddenly felt much louder than it had a minute ago.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, the thought of eating alone no longer sounded appealing.

He looked back at Jamie.

“Coffee sounds better than takeout.”

Jamie’s eyes brightened.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Alex grabbed his wallet out of habit before realizing he wouldn’t need it.

For the first time since moving into the apartment, he locked his front door with something that felt suspiciously close to optimism.

Then he followed Jamie next door.

Homemade Comfort

Jamie unlocked the door to the apartment beside Alex’s with an easy familiarity that made the hallway feel less like a place where strangers lived and more like the entrance to a friendly neighborhood.

As soon as the door swung open, a comforting warmth drifted into the hallway, carrying the inviting scent of freshly brewed coffee, warm bread, cinnamon, and something sweet Alex couldn’t immediately identify.

“Come in,” Jamie said with an encouraging smile. “Just ignore the plants if they make you feel judged. I’m convinced they all know when I forget to water them.”

Alex chuckled as he stepped inside.

The apartment was nothing like his own.

His place still echoed with empty walls, unopened boxes, and expensive furniture that had yet to arrive. Jamie’s home, on the other hand, already looked lived in. Every corner reflected care and personality without appearing cluttered.

Several leafy houseplants sat near the wide windows, their green leaves catching the afternoon sunlight.

Framed photographs decorated the shelves alongside candles, handmade pottery, and stacks of novels.

A soft cream-colored blanket rested across the sofa, while gentle instrumental music played quietly from a speaker in the corner.

The kitchen was the heart of the apartment.

Glass jars filled with flour, sugar, rice, and spices lined floating wooden shelves. Copper pans hung neatly above the stove. A row of well-used cookbooks stood beside a collection of handwritten recipe cards tied together with faded blue ribbon.

The place smelled like comfort.

Jamie noticed Alex looking around.

“I know it looks like a cooking show exploded in here.”

“It looks...” Alex searched for the right word before smiling. “...like someone actually lives here.”

Jamie laughed.