A Day in the Life of Amy

The world outside Amy’s front door had always felt small, watchful. Today, it felt like it could finally breathe with her.

After their kiss on the street, Fiona followed her inside. Max padded up eagerly, tail wagging, as if he’d known all along that this was how it should be.

Amy kicked off her shoes, laughter bubbling out of her unguarded. “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“You can’t?” Fiona teased, pulling her in by the waist. “Because I’ve been imagining you doing it for weeks.”

Amy swatted at her shoulder, cheeks warm, but she couldn’t hide the grin stretching across her face. “It feels… different now. Like nothing’s weighing on me anymore.”

“Because you finally stopped hiding,” Fiona said gently. “And God, Amy… I’m so proud of you.”

They curled up on the couch, Max wedging himself between them as if to claim his spot in this new chapter. Fiona’s head rested against Amy’s shoulder, her fingers tracing idle patterns along Amy’s wrist. There were no buzzing phones, no nervous glances, no shadows of what people might think—just the steady rhythm of two women finally leaning all the way in.

Amy glanced at Fiona’s curls spilling across her arm and felt something she hadn’t in years: peace. Not the fleeting kind that came from shopping sprees or distractions. A rooted, grounded peace that whispered *this is real*.

“Do you regret it?” Amy asked softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Fiona lifted her head, eyes steady and bright. “Not for a second. Do you?”

Amy shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “No. It feels like… like I finally chose myself. And you.”

Fiona kissed her again, slower this time, tender and sure. The kind of kiss that didn’t need fire to prove its worth—it was the kind that built a home.

When the afternoon light shifted to gold, they ordered takeout, sat cross-legged on the floor with wine and noodles, and laughed until Amy’s stomach hurt. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was theirs.

By the time they fell asleep, tangled in sheets and each other, Amy knew one thing for certain: whatever storm was waiting outside, she had finally found her anchor.