Penny's POV
My heart hammered against my ribcage as Bernie pressed the doorbell. Standing on this elegant porch, I absorbed the sight of the house bathed in soft streetlight - refined, stately, adorned with tasteful holiday decorations that framed the Georgian-style windows. This was precisely the type of residence where someone like Bernie would have spent his childhood, someone who possessed that natural sophistication that seemed to follow him everywhere.
The front door swung open, revealing a woman of average height whose light brown hair was arranged in an effortlessly chic, loose chignon. Her gray cashmere sweater managed to appear both relaxed and impeccably refined. Her smile remained reserved yet authentically welcoming, and immediately I recognized the source of Bernie's striking green eyes.
"Mum," Bernie murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek. "This is Penny."
