In Her Shadow

Conversations Over Breakfast

The morning light filtered gently through the large kitchen windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the countertops. Navy awoke to the enticing aroma of fresh coffee and something sweet wafting through the apartment, guiding her sleepy steps toward the kitchen. There, she found Bridget at the stove, looking effortlessly elegant in a loose sweater and jeans, humming to herself as she flipped pancakes with practiced ease.

Bridget glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Navy, who lingered in the doorway. "Good morning, sleepyhead," she greeted with a warm smile. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through breakfast."

Navy gave a small, sleepy grin as she slid into a seat at the island. "I guess I'm still getting used to not having to wake up early or rush out the door," she admitted, rubbing her eyes.

Bridget chuckled, pouring a mug of coffee and sliding it across the counter. "Well, now you have all the time in the world. And this morning, you're having pancakes." She set a plate piled high with fluffy, golden pancakes in front of Navy, who looked at them with wide eyes, as if they were a rare and precious gift.

Navy picked up her fork hesitantly. "These look amazing," she said, voice tinged with wonder.

"You've never had homemade pancakes before?" Bridget asked gently, though her tone was free from judgment.

Navy shook her head, her cheeks coloring slightly. "I mean, I've had pancakes before, just... not like this. They were usually the frozen kind, or whatever was on special at the diner."

Bridget gave a nod of understanding, her expression softening. "Well, consider this the real deal," she said, pouring a little syrup over the stack. "Enjoy."

Navy took her first bite, and the flavors bloomed on her tongue—sweet, fluffy, and comforting. She savored each mouthful, letting the warmth of the food settle inside her like a balm. They ate in companionable silence for a while, the only sounds the quiet clink of their forks and the occasional sip of coffee.

After a while, Navy looked up, her curiosity piqued. "Bridget, do you always cook breakfast for yourself?"

Bridget laughed softly, glancing at her with a slight smirk. "Actually, no. You're a bit of a special case. Normally, I grab a granola bar or something quick on my way to work."

Navy raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "So, I'm your excuse to actually make breakfast?"

"Exactly," Bridget said with a wink. "And besides, it's nice to have someone to cook for. It makes the mornings feel... less lonely, I suppose."

Navy's gaze softened at that, sensing a vulnerability in Bridget's words. She couldn't help but wonder what it must be like for Bridget to come home to an empty apartment each day, to a life filled with business meetings and endless responsibilities but perhaps lacking a personal connection. It was easy to see Bridget as this self-assured, powerful woman, yet in this moment, she seemed almost... human.

"Do you ever get lonely?" Navy asked gently, voicing the question before she could stop herself.

Bridget hesitated, her fork poised mid-air as if the question had caught her off guard. She looked at Navy thoughtfully, then nodded. "Sometimes, yes," she admitted, setting her fork down. "It's part of the trade-off, I suppose. My career takes up a lot of my time, and that doesn't leave much room for... other things."

Navy frowned slightly, her own plate momentarily forgotten. "What do you mean? Other things?"

"Relationships, mostly," Bridget replied, her tone light but tinged with something deeper. "I've poured so much of myself into building my career that I didn't leave much space for anyone else. And now..." She trailed off, giving a small shrug as if brushing away the thought. "Well, let's just say it can get quiet around here sometimes." Navy felt a surge of sympathy for Bridget. For all her wealth and success, there was an underlying sadness in Bridget's words, a hint of longing for something more. In a way, it was something Navy understood all too well.