A Day in the Life of Amy

The vineyard glowed in the late afternoon sun, golden light spilling over rows of grapevines. Amy leaned against a weathered wooden fence, her hair catching the light like fire. Fiona lifted her camera, but after a few clicks, she lowered it.

“You’re somewhere else,” Fiona said softly.

Amy blinked. “What do you mean?”

Fiona set the camera down and stepped closer. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re here, but not really. Something’s holding you back.”

Amy looked down, tracing her finger over the grain of the fence. The truth sat heavy in her chest. “I just… it’s complicated.”

Fiona tilted her head, searching her face. “Complicated because of Mark?”

The name hung in the air like a storm cloud. Amy’s throat tightened. “He’s been there for me. He’s stable. Safe. And I do like him…”

“But?” Fiona prompted gently.

Amy’s gaze lifted, meeting Fiona’s. Those warm brown eyes saw too much, felt too much. “But then there’s you.”

Fiona smiled faintly, though there was no triumph in it—only vulnerability. “Amy, I don’t want to be anyone’s ‘but.’”

Amy’s chest ached. “I know. I just… I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of one world for another.”

Fiona reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind Amy’s ear, her touch feather-light. “You don’t have to know everything right now. But you do have to be honest—with him, and with me.”

Amy’s heart raced. Fiona’s closeness, her scent, the way her words cut straight to the core—it was overwhelming.

“Are you asking me to choose?” Amy whispered.

“I’m asking you to stop hiding,” Fiona said. Her voice was calm, but her eyes shone with something raw. “Because every time you look at me the way you just did, I know you feel this too. And I can’t keep being the secret part of your life.”

Silence stretched between them, the vineyard quiet except for the rustle of leaves. Amy’s pulse thundered. She wanted to say yes, to fall fully into Fiona’s orbit. But the weight of Mark, of what he meant, pressed heavy.

Fiona stepped back, giving her space. “Think about it. Really think. But don’t take too long, Amy. Some doors don’t stay open forever.”

That night, Amy sat in her car outside her condo long after she parked. Max’s paws pressed against the window, eager for her to come inside, but she couldn’t move. Fiona’s words echoed in her mind, twisting with Mark’s question from nights before.

Two lives. Two choices.

And Amy knew—soon, she wouldn’t be able to straddle both.