Time Regained by Marcel Proust.
2014 The year of Tolstoy and Proust. This is the last volume of Proust's In Search Of Lost Time, originally called Remembrance Of Things Past by the person who first translated it into English back in the 1920s, C.K. Scott Moncrieff. The last volume was 900 pages along and except for about maybe 100 pages took place in the narrators' Paris apartment. Did not feel like 900 pages though. Took me six weeks.
I can only recommend it by quoting this paragraph from an earlier volume, in which the main character suddenly feels true grief when he finally realizes his grandmother is dead and is not coming back; in an earlier part of his life he would often knock 3 times on his wall to let his grandmother in the next room know he was awake, then she would come in and get him ready for the day (they were staying in a hotel on a beach in Normandy on an extended summer vacation in the late 1800s). He is back in the same hotel room about a year after his grandmother's death:
I knew that now I could knock, more loudly even, that nothing could again wake her, that I would not hear any response, that my grandmother would never again come. And I asked nothing more of God, if there is a paradise, than to be able to give there the three little taps on that partition that my grandmother would recognize anywhere, and to which she would respond with those other taps that meant, "Don't fret yourself, little mouse, I realize you're impatient, but I'm just coming," and that he should let me remain with her for all eternity, which would not be too long for the two of us.