The train cut through the dark, its lights slicing the night into flickers of motion and memory. Outside the window, the city blurred past in jagged shapes, too fast to hold, too familiar to surprise.
The steady rhythm of the tracks should’ve been calming. A lull. Almost peaceful.
Beside her, Penny had drifted off, curled into her seat with one arm slung across her stomach, her breath quiet and even. Arden watched the rise and fall of it—soft, steady, untouchable.
Her phone vibrated, muffled and distant. She dug for it blindly, her mind still miles away.
A notification blinked on-screen.
Her stomach knotted briefly, automatically.
But then she saw his name.
Gideon.
Then, the weight in her chest shifted. Didn’t vanish.
But it lightened enough to breathe again.
Gideon: Hey, beautiful. Hope your day went well. Can I see you tomorrow evening?
She read it twice.
Blushed.
Smiled.
She realized her expression had changed only when Penny stirred, cracking one eye open.
“That from your secret admirer?” she murmured, her voice raspy and soft from sleep. Then, with a lazy smirk, “Or someone… less annoying?”
Arden rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward. “It’s Gideon.”
Penny grinned, satisfied. “Ah, yes. Brooding boss with hidden depths. Solid choice.”
Arden ignored her and tapped out a reply.
Arden: The day was good… Penny’s family is a force of nature. Tomorrow sounds good. What time?
The answer came almost immediately.
Gideon: I’ll pick you up at 7.
She stared at the screen a moment longer, her thumb resting against the edge like she wasn’t ready to put it away yet.
Gideon and the Haverfords were nothing alike.
One was heat held tight beneath restraint.
The other, unfiltered warmth, spilling everywhere.
Both had found their way to her.
They steadied her, but in different ways.
Penny’s voice slipped through the quiet, half-mumbled, half-anchored in dream.
“You’ve got people now.”
