The Knock at the Door

Mia sat on the couch, her hands wrapped tightly around a mug of tea that had long gone cold. The apartment was quiet, but inside her head, a storm raged.

Did I forget to lock the door?
Did I say something wrong in that email?
What if they think I’m stupid?

The thoughts came in waves, crashing over her one after another, each one worse than the last. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing shallow. She knew it was irrational, but knowing didn’t make it stop.

Then came the knock.

A single, sharp rap at the door. Her breath caught in her throat. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Who could it be? Did they hear her pacing earlier? Had she done something wrong? A thousand possibilities filled her mind, none of them good.

The knock came again.

Her body screamed at her to stay put, to ignore it, but she forced herself to stand. Step by step, she moved toward the door, every muscle tense. She reached for the doorknob, hesitating, her palm slick with sweat.

Finally, with a deep breath, she turned the handle.

It was her neighbor, Mrs. Ellis, holding a small plate of cookies. “I made too many,” she said with a warm smile. “Thought you might like some.”

Mia exhaled a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The weight in her chest loosened, if only a little.

“Thank you,” she whispered, taking the plate.

As the door closed, she realized something—sometimes, the things she feared the most weren’t as scary as they seemed.

-naielaomer.