You weren’t supposed to see him.

Not like that—

Not riding your horse like he had every right to be there.

Like it wasn’t yours.

Like he’d done it before.

—

He’s your neighbour. Quiet. Distant. The kind of person who keeps to himself and never explains anything.

And yet somehow... your horse trusts him.

More than it should.

More than you expected.

Now you’re standing there, watching him like you’ve just caught him doing something he can’t take back.

And he’s looking at you like... he doesn’t regret it at all.