Inside the Carriage – Late Afternoon
The rhythmic clatter of carriage wheels on cobbled roads filled the silence between them. Through the small window, fields blurred into the distance, soft and golden under the setting sun.
Mary sat with her gloved hands folded on her lap, her journal tucked carefully beside her. She hadn't spoken in minutes, her gaze distant, lips pressed in thought.
Thomas finally broke the silence.
"You haven't looked out the window once," he said gently.
She blinked and turned her head slightly. "Haven't I?"
"No. And I've known you long enough to know when your mind is far away."
Mary offered a faint smile. "It is."
He leaned back, studying her. "So tell me… why London, really?"
Mary hesitated.
She could lie. Say it was Lily. Say it was boredom. Curiosity.
But her hands tightened slightly.
"I'm going to meet someone," she said quietly.
Thomas tilted his head. "Someone?"
"Yes. Someone… special."
A beat passed. The words hung in the air like smoke.
"Special how?" he asked, trying to keep the tone light, but the curiosity was clear.
Mary looked out the window this time—not at the world, but to avoid his eyes. "Someone I knew… a long time ago. We met again recently. It stirred something in me I didn't expect."
Thomas was quiet. Thoughtful.
"A man?" he asked.
Mary turned slowly to look at him. There was something unreadable in her eyes—something that flickered like a candle behind glass.
She didn't answer. Not directly.
Instead, she said softly, "If I don't see them now, I may never get another chance."
Thomas's brow furrowed slightly, puzzled but respectful. "You speak like you're afraid of losing them."
Mary nodded once. "I am."
And then she looked away again, voice low and honest.
"I know it sounds reckless. I know I shouldn't be here. But every moment I stay away from them feels like I'm fading."
Thomas studied her quietly. He didn't press further, but the silence between them shifted—no longer casual, now filled with questions he didn't quite know how to ask.
Finally, he said, "Whoever they are… I hope they're worth the way your voice just trembled."
Mary smiled gently, but her eyes were already misting.
"They are," she whispered.