Through His Eyes

Life has a way of creating an interesting plot, even when the life you live feels dull and uneventful. You wake up, go through the motions, and tell yourself things will get better. But if you don’t stand up and take the reins, life will take you on a ride of its own—one you never signed up for. Eden Hayes sat at her small kitchen table, a warm mug of coffee in hand, the quiet hum of the refrigerator filling the empty space around her. The apartment was modest, the furniture mismatched, but it was hers. She had learned to make the best of it, finding comfort in the little things—like the smell of fresh coffee or the way the sun streamed in through the kitchen window in the mornings. She knew life wasn’t perfect. It never had been. But somehow, through all the setbacks, the mistakes, and the heartache, she’d always managed to keep a positive outlook. She had big dreams, goals she knew she’d reach one day. She just had to stay the course. Even with the constant pressure of unpaid bills and a job that barely paid the rent, Eden believed that the right moment was always just around the corner. The world had a funny way of surprising you when you least expected it, and she was ready for whatever came next. After all, she had nothing to lose—and everything to gain. It was 7 AM, and Eden had been up since 5. The gym session was done, breakfast was eaten, and now she sat at her small kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee while scrolling through i********:. What’s interesting this morning, South Nashville? She thought to herself, the warm mug in her hands was a small comfort as she mindlessly tapped through posts, liking the occasional picture and skimming through headlines. The quiet of the morning was a moment of peace before the day truly began. Life had been chaotic lately, but she’d learned how to find balance in the routine. Some days it felt like the world was closing in, but this morning, with the coffee and the soft morning light, everything felt just right. Her thumb paused as a sponsored ad popped up in her feed: “Introducing Thomas Ruthven—bestselling author of Unforgiven Roads.” The name didn’t mean anything to her, but the striking image of the author caught her eye. He was handsome in a dark, almost haunting way, his sharp features highlighted in black and white. There was something magnetic about his eyes—intense, mysterious. Eden found herself lingering longer than she meant to, her thumb slowing as she scrolled through more of his photos. He looked like the kind of man you couldn’t forget, the kind of man who haunted your thoughts long after you closed your phone. She shook her head, quickly brushing off the fluttering feeling in her chest. “Get a grip,” she muttered to herself. The usual rhythm of her thoughts settled back in, and she returned to the day ahead—another round of emails, another round of waiting for a break that seemed to be forever out of reach. 9 AM, Eden sat behind the reception desk at the dental clinic, dressed in simple business casual attire—a blouse and slacks—her black hair with light bangs framing her small face. The morning was slow, with only a few appointments scheduled. She typed away at the computer, managing patient records and confirming appointments, her eyes flicking up with a friendly smile whenever a new patient arrived. By mid-morning, the pace picked up. She checked in patients, answered phone calls, and juggled a mix of small tasks—scheduling, insurance questions, and ensuring everything ran smoothly. Her mind remained sharp, despite the occasional ache in her feet from standing all day. As the clinic buzzed with activity, Eden kept the calm, her friendly demeanor making each patient feel at ease. Eden had made it a habit to journal her simple life through i********:, scarcely leaving details out. At the clinic, her phone buzzed softly on the desk between calls and appointments. Between checking patients in, scheduling follow-ups, and answering the occasional call, Eden took quick moments to update her feed. She posted everything—from her morning gym routine to lunch breaks and even the little things, like a shot of the receptionist desk or the window view of the clinic parking lot. Her life wasn’t glamorous, but it was hers, and she liked to share it. The simplicity of it all gave her a sense of control. It was a window into her world, and in a way, it made her feel seen, even if only in the smallest way. Just as she was typing up a quick caption for a picture of the clinic’s waiting room, a voice broke through her concentration. “Hey, Eden, the printer’s out of paper,” a coworker, Lucy, called from the back. Eden looked up, smiled, and responded. “Got it. I’ll grab some from the supply closet.” She passed through the reception area, heading toward the supply closet to grab some paper for the printer. The faint murmur of the TV in the break room caught her attention, drawing her toward the door. She peeked inside, the sound of the newscaster growing clearer. “…a tragic shooting incident that occurred late last night at the Riverview Apartments,” the reporter’s voice rang out. Eden hesitated, her gaze drawn to the screen. “A young child, only 15 years old, was found critically injured after gunshots rang out near the parking lot. Authorities are investigating, but sources say the area has been seeing an uptick in gang-related activity.” Eden froze, her stomach tightening. The Riverview Apartments. Her apartment. Just steps away from her parking spot. The place she passed every day, the place she called home. She had lived there for over a year, and never had she imagined something like this could happen so close. The news anchor continued, “…local law enforcement says this is part of a growing trend of gang violence in the area, particularly as tensions rise in surrounding neighborhoods. Residents are being urged to remain cautious and report any suspicious activity.” Eden gasped, her heart racing. The news felt like a heavy weight pressing down on her. She stood there, caught in the unsettling realization that she had been living so close to this violence, unaware of the danger that might have been lurking in her own neighborhood. After a moment, she shook herself out of the daze. No time to linger. She had a job to do, patients waiting, and a routine to get back to. But the unease settled deep inside her, the image of the child and the rising violence haunting her as she grabbed the paper from the closet and headed back to the front desk. The day dragged on, uneventful, the news report lingering in the back of Eden’s mind. Every now and then, she’d glance out the clinic window, as if expecting something to happen, but the street remained quiet. The hum of the clinic, the clinking of instruments in the background, and the soft voices of the patients made the hours blend together. It felt like the calm before a storm, though she couldn’t say why. As the clock neared mid-afternoon, her phone buzzed on the desk. She picked it up, her face brightening as she saw the name on the screen. It was a message from Sam Felder, the cyber security analyst she’d met a few months ago. He worked for the government, a job that always intrigued her, but their conversations had evolved into something more casual over time. “Hey, how’s your day going?” his message read. “Everything quiet at the clinic, or are you dealing with the usual chaos?” Eden smiled as she quickly typed back, “Just the usual. Bills, appointments, and a little bit of waiting around for the next wave of patients. How about you?” A few moments later, his response pinged back. “Nothing too exciting on my end either. Just trying to make sure no one’s hacking into the government’s database. But you know, keeping things low-key. 😉” She chuckled, shaking her head at his playful tone. “I bet. Sounds like you’ve got the exciting life while I’m stuck with scheduling teeth cleaning and paperwork.” Sam’s reply came quickly. “Hey, don’t knock the teeth-cleaning game. It’s an art. But seriously, I’m glad to hear your day’s been chill. If it gets boring, I can always send you something to entertain you.” Eden grinned, the familiar banter easing the tension she’d been carrying since the news report. “I’m good for now. Just trying to keep it together until it’s time to go home.” Her fingers hovered over the screen as she read his messages. As much as she enjoyed their playful exchanges, there was always something about Sam that made her feel like he kept himself at a distance. She was drawn to him, not just because of his charm, but because she saw so much of herself in him. He’d go weeks without a word, disappearing into the silence like a shadow, much like she did when the stress became too much. Eden often joked to herself that she was a “serial isolator”—someone who retreated when things got hard. And Sam? He seemed like he shared that same trait. She couldn’t help but see the similarities, a quiet kind of loneliness that both pushed them together and kept them apart. But deep down, Eden knew that no matter how much they connected, he’d never take her seriously. She was just another distraction in his world, someone to talk to when it was convenient, but nothing more. Still, that didn’t stop her from wishing it could be different, from hoping that maybe, just maybe, he might see her in a way that was more than just fleeting banter. The conversation faded back into light exchanges, but the thought lingered in her mind, pulling her focus away from the clinic and back to the screen of her phone. She sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment, before returning to the flow of her day. She opened the app and scrolled through her feed absentmindedly, trying to distract herself from the quiet hum of the clinic. Another sponsored ad caught her eye, and her heart skipped when she saw the name again: Thomas Ruthven. Without thinking, she clicked on the ad and found herself scrolling through his photos once more. His intense gaze in every image, the shadow of mystery surrounding him, had a strange pull. She lingered on one of the more recent pictures: Thomas in military gear, standing with a group of people. The team was all smiles, but their faces were blurred out, leaving Thomas’s face the only one visible. He looked different in this photo—more serious, almost untouchable, yet there was something about the way he stood, his posture, that made him seem so real. For a brief moment, Eden thought about how strange it was that someone so enigmatic could post such personal images, yet still keep so much hidden. His military photo felt like another layer to the man behind the facade. With a soft sigh, she decided to give in to the curiosity that had been quietly gnawing at her. She clicked the “Follow” button.