Unconventional

Opulence

Emilio first noticed her on a hot summer afternoon, sweat trickling down his back as he leaned against the hood of his car. The sun beat down relentlessly on the cracked pavement, the air thick and heavy with humidity. He was smoking a cigarette, idly watching the movers haul in boxes and shabby furniture, when he saw her: Jennifer. She was struggling with a box almost as big as she was, her face red with exertion and her hair clinging to her damp forehead.

He watched her for a moment, a slow grin spreading across his face. She was a mess—short, overweight, and clearly out of her depth with the whole moving process. The faded, oversized T-shirt she wore was drenched in sweat, sticking to her back, and she looked like she might collapse under the weight of the box at any moment. The movers were too busy to notice, but Emilio did. He always noticed the weak ones.

"Hey!" he called out, flicking the cigarette butt onto the pavement. It skidded to a stop near Jennifer's feet. She glanced up, startled, her glasses sliding down her nose. "Need some help with that?" He didn't move from his spot, didn't offer any real assistance—just watched her with a smirk that told her everything she needed to know: he wasn't offering out of kindness.

Jennifer tried to adjust the box in her arms, mumbling a polite "No, thank you." Her voice was soft, barely audible over the noise of the movers and the distant hum of traffic. She took a few shaky steps toward the front door of the small, dilapidated house that had just become hers. It was a far cry from anything fancy—peeling paint, a sagging porch, windows that hadn't been washed in years—but she seemed determined to make it work.

"Suit yourself," Emilio shrugged, watching her fumble with the box. He could see the strain in her eyes, the way she winced with each step. "Just don't hurt yourself, piggy. Wouldn't want you crying all over the neighborhood."

Jennifer paused, clearly rattled, but she didn't say anything. She just continued her slow, awkward journey up the front steps, her grip tightening on the box as if she could shut out his words by holding on harder. Emilio watched her, amusement flickering in his eyes. There was something so pathetically amusing about her determination—like a mouse running in a wheel, thinking it was going somewhere.

As she reached the door, one of the movers finally noticed her struggle and stepped in to help, taking the box from her arms. Jennifer mumbled a grateful thank you, her face flushed from more than just the heat. Emilio could see the embarrassment written all over her, the way her shoulders hunched as if she were trying to make herself smaller.

"Welcome to the neighborhood!" Emilio called out, his voice dripping with false cheerfulness. "I'm sure you're gonna fit right in."

Jennifer didn't look back, but he could tell by the stiff set of her shoulders that she'd heard him. He chuckled to himself, pushing off from his car and heading back inside his house. This was going to be fun. Having her around would be like having his own little entertainment channel, playing on loop. He couldn't wait to see what other opportunities she'd give him to push her buttons.

As the door closed behind him, Emilio thought about all the ways he could make her life just a bit more miserable, a bit more entertaining for himself. The possibilities were endless, and he was just getting started.

———

Over the next few weeks, Emilio made it a point to be around whenever Jennifer was outside. He'd linger by his car, pretend to water the sparse patch of grass that passed for a lawn, or take out the trash just as she stepped onto her porch. It was easy to strike up conversations; Jennifer was polite to a fault, and Emilio took advantage of that.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a dusky pink, Emilio saw Jennifer struggling with a bag of groceries on her way back from the bus stop. The bag was clearly too heavy for her, and she paused every few steps to adjust her grip. Emilio decided it was the perfect opportunity.

He sauntered over, his hands in his pockets, flashing a grin. "Hey there, Jenny," he called out, using the nickname he knew she hated. "Need a hand with that?"

Jennifer glanced up, a hint of wariness in her eyes. She hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Sure, if you don't mind," she said softly.

Emilio took the bag from her, effortlessly lifting it with one hand. "You know, I always see you carrying these heavy bags all by yourself," he said casually as they walked toward her house. "You really shouldn't have to do that. Where's your husband to help you out?"

Jennifer's face flushed slightly, and she looked away. "I don't have a husband," she murmured.

Emilio feigned surprise. "No husband? Really? I just figured... well, most women your age are usually settled down by now. You know, with kids and a family. Guess you're the exception, huh?"

Jennifer's grip tightened on her purse, and she gave a small shrug. "I guess so," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Must get pretty lonely," Emilio continued, pretending to be thoughtful. "Living in that big house all by yourself. No one to come home to, no one to talk to. I can't imagine what that must be like." He glanced at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You're not scared living alone, are you?"

Jennifer shook her head quickly. "No, I'm fine. I'm used to it," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

They reached her front porch, and Emilio set the bag down at her feet. "Well, if you ever need company, you know where I am," he said, giving her a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm always around."

Jennifer mumbled a quiet thank you and fumbled with her keys, clearly eager to escape the conversation. Emilio leaned against the porch railing, watching her struggle with the lock.

"So, what brought you to this neighborhood anyway?" he asked, tilting his head. "Not exactly the kind of place most people choose to move to unless they don't have a lot of other options."

Jennifer finally got the door open and turned to face him, her expression guarded. "I needed a fresh start," she said simply. "Someplace quiet, away from... everything."

Emilio nodded slowly, as if he were considering her words. "Yeah, I get it. Sometimes life doesn't go the way we plan, does it?" He let out a small chuckle. "But hey, at least you don't have anyone else to let down, right?"

Jennifer's eyes flickered with a mix of hurt and confusion, but she didn't respond. She just gave him a tight-lipped smile and stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind her.

Emilio stood on the porch for a moment, his smirk widening. It was almost too easy. He could see her defenses slowly crumbling, bit by bit. The more he pressed, the more she revealed without even realizing it. He knew all the right buttons to push, and he had plenty of time to push them.

As he walked back to his own house, Emilio couldn't help but chuckle to himself. Jennifer was like a puzzle, one he intended to take apart piece by piece. He didn't need to rush. There was plenty of time to dig into her life, to find all the little cracks where he could wedge himself in and make her feel small.

And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.