The morning air bit softly at James’s cheeks as he stepped out into the street, but it wasn’t unpleasant. There was a freshness to it, a sharpness that seemed to wash away the lingering weight of the past weeks. He walked slowly, side by side with Penelope, letting the silence stretch between them. There was a rhythm to it now, a cadence he had grown accustomed to, though every so often he caught himself staring at her, aware of the warmth in her hand as it brushed against his.
The city seemed quieter, not empty, but calm in a way that made him uneasy. The puddles reflected the weak morning light in fractured patterns, broken mirrors stretching across the uneven pavement. He noticed her boots scuff lightly against the wet stone, a small, humanizing imperfection that made him smile faintly
