Sobbing. That’s the first sound that ushered me to her. Through the thin wall the head of my bed rested against I could hear gentle mewling and tears, which were trying to be silenced. It was faint, almost unrecognizable. But it was there, just above my head and through the wall. I let my mouth hang open to quieten my breath, attempting to catch a sound of her mood improving. It did not.

I hadn’t had much interaction with my neighbor. I was fairly certain she was a woman around my age. We only crossed paths through happenstance, and when we did the most we interacted was a kind, ‘hello’, before we slinked back into the roles of strangers. I didn’t think I could even give an accurate description of her appearance. Which is why I was surprised when I opened my mouth to talk to her that night. I sat up in my bed and rested my head against the wall between us. ‘Are you okay?’

I spoke so softly I may have just imagined the words. Moreover, no response was offered back to me. She may not have heard me, or she may have heard me and thought it was weird that the stranger who lived next to her was suddenly talking to her. It would be best if I left the situation and fell asleep, pretend all of this was a dream. Rolling down into bed, the shuffle of my duvet almost caused me to miss her response. ‘I’m okay. Everything is just a lot, you know?’

For a moment I was frozen. She spoke back. I managed to stutter out a response, ‘I get that. I thought it would all be over by now, but two months in and here we are.’

I thought I heard a sharp intake of her breath, as if my comment brought some humor to her. ‘Me too. I just miss my family. It was my brother’s birthday, and this is the first one I’ve ever missed.’

‘I’m sorry, but I do think he’ll forgive you for missing this one.’

‘Hopefully,’ I can feel the smile in her response. ‘Anyway, I’m sorry to be keeping you awake with my problems.’

‘No, don’t apologize. I know we don’t exactly know each other, but you can talk to me whenever, I’ll always be right through our wall.’

‘Thank you, I’m Zoe, by the way.’

‘Ben.’

‘Goodnight, Ben.’

‘Goodnight.’

Zoe. The woman who lived behind the wall. Our wall. I had called it our wall. And it quickly became our wall. After that first night it became part of a routine to check in with Zoe each night to make sure she was doing okay. But it evolved as quick as it began. The conversation shifted within a week from comforting each other through the hardships of being cooped up all day into laughing and learning about each other. She had just graduated from the same university I was about to start my penultimate year at and had been in the process of being hired as a child psychologist when the pandemic struck. She had a younger brother and an older sister - both of whom were lovable yet excessively annoying. Her singing voice was even more angelic than her speaking voice, and she wanted to live in Australia one day. Zoe was easy to talk to, easy to get along with. Easy to fall for.

It had been almost a month since our initial interaction that I decided to ask if we could somehow meet. There was no way to go on an actual date, in fact I hadn’t even phrased it to sound as if it was a date. For all I knew she just wanted to meet the guy she’d been speaking to through a wall for the past month. We came to the decision that we’d just go to the local supermarket together- socially distanced, of course, but together.

I slipped on my mask and slung my backpack over my arms, with a shopping bag crinkling within it. My hands shook as I reached for my door handle, and I was breathing heavier than reasonability. I could feel the sweat as my skin made contact with the cold metal and it took three deep breaths of encouragement before I took the plunge and opened my door.

The hallway was quiet, as was expected. The décor and colour were minimalistic at best. But standing just a few feet to my left was Zoe, the woman I’d spent the past month revealing everything to. What outrageous dreams I could have, or the dark thoughts which whisked through my head. The highest points of my life and that one time I broke my leg and was bed-ridden for what felt like an age. It was easy. She was the woman through the wall. Almost imaginary at how perfect she was. But there she was. Real.

Her long, brown hair fell over her face, but I could still see and was enthralled by her oceanic blue eyes. She must have sensed how tense I was - that or she saw it painted on my face, I found it difficult to hide my emotions. But, through her mask, I spotted her sweet smile and a slight flush of her cheeks, when she brushed away her hair; and finally seeing her in person made me relax. ‘Hey,’ she breathed out, her eyes squinting slightly and mask shifting as her smile grew.

‘Hey.’