You have only 15 minutes, I thought when I rushed towards my front door. Judging no one was looking, I made a beeline for the open window. I strained to see over the windowsill, relieved no neighbors were watching.
Their living room was just like any other. Mike stood with a professional camera, his back towards me. Jill faced him, a soft smile playing on her lips. A flicker of movement at the edge of the room caught my eye. Mike was looking directly at me. Our eyes met, and I fell as his wife shouted, “Someone’s there! Someone’s peeking inside!”
No, no, no! I thought. This can’t be happening!
I scrambled back to my house, heart pounding, and locked the door. What was I thinking? Why did I peek into their house? Had I offended them? I was terrified they might call the police.
The following day, a knock on my door shattered the silence. My stomach churned as I peeked through the peephole. It was Mike. He held an envelope and slid out a photograph. My photograph. “Care to explain?” he asked, amusement in his voice.
Feeling embarrassed, I confessed. To my surprise, Mike smiled and invited me over, explaining he takes Jill’s photo daily to show his love. Since then, I never peeked through the window again, cherishing their heartwarming ritual.
