Through His Eyes

Spontaneous Tom

Eden awoke to the soft warmth of Saturday morning light, spilling through the blinds and casting gentle stripes across her room. The way the light hit the floor, illuminating the space with a soft, golden hue, caught her attention. It looked almost too perfect, the way it framed her little apartment. Something about it felt worthy of a candid shot. Without thinking, she grabbed her phone from the nightstand and snapped a quick picture, adding it to her i********: story with a simple caption: “Saturday morning vibes.”

She set the phone down and stretched, letting the events of the previous night flood back into her mind. The active shooter scare, the rush of adrenaline, and the man—Thomas Ruthven. The name echoed in her thoughts, reminding her of the strange mix of calm and danger he exuded. His presence had lingered with her long after he left, his steady demeanor, the way he carried himself with such ease.

Curiosity gnawed at her. She sat up in bed, reaching for her phone again. She opened i********: and went straight to his profile, scrolling through his posts. As she expected, it was filled with the kind of dramatic content she might expect from someone who used their social media as a form of self-promotion. There were plenty of quotes from his novel—lines that made her smile but felt distant, like they were meant to inspire rather than connect.

A few black-and-white photos of him in a white beater, his arms flexed as if modeling for a gritty magazine. The usual photos of food—fancy plates, plates with too much garnish, and the occasional close-up of a glass of wine. There were a handful of pictures of him in military gear, some of them clearly taken during his time in the Army.

She paused at one in particular, a photo of him and his team that included a dog. The caption read: “Nothing can replace these times with great men!” Eden smiled softly at the image of the dog. It was a beautiful, cream-colored Shar-Pei, sitting proudly at his side, gear strapped around its neck.

Eden put the phone down and rubbed her eyes, trying to focus on the day ahead. She couldn’t let her mind wander too much. She had errands to run, groceries to get, and a workout that had been on her list all week. But as she prepared for the day, she couldn’t help but think about Thomas—how strange and unexpected it had been to meet him, how real it all felt in the moment.

The routine Eden followed was simple and easy to maintain—eat, train, eat, groceries, eat, meal prep, shower. Her life was structured, each task feeding into the next with little interruption. Today was no different. She had just finished her morning routine and slipped into a pretty pink sundress that accentuated her bust, a subtle nod to the warmer weather. She sat back down on the couch with a sigh, her mind still a little foggy from waking up, but ready to take on the day.

She picked up her phone once again, checking for any new notifications. Sam had texted. The message was casual, lighthearted.

“How’s your Saturday going? The park was fun, dogs got their workout in. Hated it when an old lady approached me on the trail though. People don’t know how to mind their business!”

Eden pursed her lips, her thumb hovering over the screen as she typed her response, her voice flat and monotone. “Sounds like a good day. I’ve been keeping it low key, just the usual stuff.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy talking to Sam—it was more that, recently, their conversations felt more like routine than anything. She wondered if it was just her, or if Sam felt it too. She couldn’t help but think about him as she sat there, lost in her thoughts.

Sam was much older than she was, about a 13-year age gap between them. Yet, it didn’t show. He kept his physique in impeccable shape, a fact that Eden admired more than anything else. His dedication to his training and nutrition was relentless—something she couldn’t help but respect. Sam’s discipline was something she often found herself thinking about when she was struggling to stay motivated. She admired his consistency, how he made everything a priority, always putting fitness and self-care at the top of his list.

Another notification from Sam buzzed through. “Glad to have another okay Saturday. Usually, they’re depressing.”

She knew what he meant. Sam had confided in her early on about his past struggles—how weekends had once been his hardest times. Weekends were when he’d get blackout drunk, only to wake up Sunday morning, filled with regret. Whether it was from the aftermath of a night spent with the wrong person or from a mistake like damaging his car—hitting it against a trashcan on his way home—those memories stuck with him. Eden remembered wincing at the thought of it when he first told her, hearing the sorrow in his voice, even through text.

Though Sam had been sober for over a decade, the scars of those days remained. It was something she couldn’t quite understand, but she had learned to give him the space he needed. She felt grateful, though, that his Saturdays were getting better, more bearable.

But even as she read his text, a small pang of sadness touched her. Their relationship had mostly been text-based, long and drawn-out conversations over the course of a year. They had shared bits of their lives, exchanged thoughts, and sometimes, deep personal things, but something always held them back. For Eden, the feelings were real—no doubt about that. But there was always a part of her that wasn’t sure where to take it.

Her thumbs moved to reply to his text. “It’d be better if you just came over one of these Saturdays.”

She recalled the times Sam would talk about meeting up, saying they should hang out. He’d sound so certain about it, so eager. But then, nothing ever came of it. No plans ever materialized, and it always reverted back to the same old thing—the long text exchanges, the small talk, and the occasional deep conversation. But it was always a virtual connection, never a real one.

Eden sighed, biting her lip. She liked Sam. She did. There was something about him, about the way he made her feel understood, having both faced some sort of abuse growing up. But how much longer could she keep this one-sided connection going?

Eden’s phone buzzed at precisely 4:00 PM on the dot, as it did every Saturday afternoon. She smiled before even looking at the screen—there was only one person it could be. Braxton. Her childhood best friend, the one person who had always been there, no matter what.

She quickly swiped to answer, her heart always doing a little flip when she saw his name.

“Hey, stranger,” Braxton’s voice greeted her, calm and warm as always. The familiarity of it felt like home.

“Hey!” Eden’s voice was brighter now, the weight of the last few days melting away. “Same time, same day, huh?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he said, chuckling lightly. “How’s your Saturday going?”

“Not bad,” Eden replied, leaning back on the couch and sighing. “Same old routine, you know? Gym, food, and… texting Sam.” She winced at the last part.

Braxton laughed, but it wasn’t one of his usual playful chuckles. There was something almost teasing in it. “So, still stuck in that cycle, huh? Have you thought about calling him instead of just texting? You know, for once, there might actually be some context in the conversation.”

Eden rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “I know, I know. You’ve been saying that for months. But I’m not sure it’s gonna make a difference. Sam’s… well, Sam.”

“I get that,” Braxton said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “But if he’s the male version of you, why bother? You’re both just living lonely lives, and you have more people to talk to than he does. Why invest so much time in someone who’s clearly too lost to be looking for a relationship right now?”

Eden paused, biting her lip thinking about whether she should change the subject to Braxton music career but she knew he wasn’t going to let off. Braxton had a way of cutting through her thoughts without even trying, and this time, his words hit a little too close to the truth. “I don’t know. He just… feels like someone I get, you know? We live the same life—same kind of loneliness. The only difference is, I actually have people to talk to.”

She leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling.

“You’re not wrong,” Braxton said gently. “But it sounds like you’re carrying his weight, too. You don’t have to do that. Especially if he’s not ready for anything real.”

Eden could hear the sincerity in his voice. It was always there, like a steady current beneath their conversations. Braxton had been her constant, her rock, and even though they’d known each other for so long, she had never considered anything more. He was family.

“Thanks for being here,” she said softly, knowing the words were not just for this conversation.

“Always,” Braxton replied. “Always.”

Eden’s phone buzzed again after Braxton hung up, and she instinctively glanced down, expecting another monotonous message from Sam. But when she saw the name Tom Ruthven appear on the screen, her heart skipped a beat.

It was the first message from him since the night of the shooting scare.

The message read: “Less eventful day, I hope?”

Eden smiled, the words surprising her with how casually they brought her back to that moment—his calm, steady presence in the chaos. She quickly typed her response, eager to keep the conversation going.

“A lot less. Maybe a little too boring. Thank god you were there, would’ve been a sitting duck.”

She hit send before overthinking it, the lighthearted tone of her message almost a relief. Eden placed her phone down beside her on the couch, a small grin still on her face. There was something about Tom’s presence that made her feel grounded, even in moments of uncertainty.

Without a second beat, Tom’s reply came in: “Busy tonight?”

Eden’s fingers hovered over her phone for a moment, her thoughts racing. The sudden shift in his message caught her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to continue the conversation so smoothly, let alone so quickly. It felt… natural. Maybe too natural.

She smiled to herself, the playful tone of his words pulling her back into the easy rhythm of their conversation. Was it possible that he was interested in something more? She quickly brushed away the thought, reminding herself to keep it light.

“Not really. Just my usual Saturday routine. You know, gym, food, possibly getting lost in a good movie. What about you?”

Surprised by his rapid-fire responses, Eden stared at the next message from Tom:

“Let’s go to dinner? Currently in your neighborhood looking at units, so think fast!”

Her breath caught for a moment, unsure how to react. Dinner? Just like that? It was spontaneous, bold, and completely unexpected. Her fingers hovered over the screen as she tried to process what he was suggesting.

She had only just met him in the most unusual of circumstances, and now here he was, asking her to dinner like it was the most natural thing in the world. Was this a normal move for him?

“You’re in my neighborhood? I remember you said you were apartment hunting… dinner sounds good. Let’s do it.”

Her fingers hovered over the screen as she hit send, a rush of anticipation washing over her. Was this moving too fast? Maybe. But the spontaneity was too hard to pass up.

Another buzz—“Good. I’m outside.”