A Day in the Life of Amy

Amy hadn’t realized how much her life had shifted until Mark pointed it out.

They were sitting across from each other at a trendy wine bar downtown, Mark talking about his latest case. Amy smiled and nodded in the right places, but her mind kept wandering back to Fiona—her laugh, her touch, the way she had looked at her during their last late-night conversation.

“You’re quiet tonight,” Mark said suddenly, tilting his head. His sharp eyes studied her, curious but also concerned.

Amy blinked, caught. “Oh, sorry. Just tired, I guess.”

Mark’s lips curved into a knowing smile, but there was something guarded in his expression. “Busy week?”

“Yeah,” Amy said, shifting in her seat. “I’ve just been… doing new things. Trying new stuff.”

Mark leaned back, swirling the wine in his glass. “New stuff? Like what?”

Amy hesitated. She hadn’t told him about Fiona, about the shoots, about how her days felt suddenly fuller and more alive. “Just… exploring,” she said vaguely. “Photography. Modeling, maybe.”

Mark chuckled. “Modeling, huh? I can see it. You’ve got the look. But…” He paused, leaning in slightly. “Is that really you, Ames? You’re not exactly the type to chase cameras and spotlights.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten. She forced a smile. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

Later that night, after Mark dropped her off, Amy sat in her condo with Max curled up beside her. Her phone buzzed again.

Fiona: “Miss you already. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Also, I found the perfect spot for our shoot—it’s magic.”

Amy’s heart lifted instantly, her earlier conversation with Mark fading into the background. She typed back quickly: “I can’t wait either ❤️.”

But as she hit send, guilt washed over her. She liked Mark. He had been nothing but good to her. Yet whenever Fiona’s name appeared on her screen, it was like gravity shifted—pulling her in, unshakable and strong.

The following week, the pull became harder to hide.

Mark invited her to dinner with friends, but Amy canceled last-minute, telling him she wasn’t feeling well—when in truth she was at Fiona’s studio, laughing under the bright lights as Fiona adjusted her camera.

“Beautiful,” Fiona said as Amy posed, her voice husky, her eyes never leaving her. “You’re a natural.”

Amy blushed, feeling both exposed and powerful. Fiona’s gaze made her feel like she was more than just a girl from Napa coasting through her days. She felt seen. Desired.

But that night, Mark called. His voice was quiet, heavier than usual. “Amy… are you pulling away from me?”

The question hung in the air, sharp and unavoidable.

Amy froze, staring at the ceiling in the dark, Fiona’s laughter still echoing in her memory. “No,” she whispered, though even she could hear the doubt in her voice.

When the call ended, Amy lay awake long after, torn between the steady comfort of Mark’s world and the dangerous, exhilarating pull of Fiona’s.

For the first time, she realized—she couldn’t balance both much longer.