Amy thought she could avoid him. She told herself Napa was big enough, that if she stayed out of his favorite restaurants or walked Max on quieter streets, she could sidestep the storm she knew was brewing.
But storms have a way of finding you.
It was a Tuesday afternoon, the kind of warm, sleepy day when the town felt like it was holding its breath. Amy had just left a boutique with a shopping bag swinging in her hand when she heard a familiar voice.
“Amy.”
She froze. Slowly, she turned.
Mark stood there, dressed sharp as ever in a crisp navy suit, but his face wasn’t the warm, teasing mask she knew. His jaw was tight, his eyes shadowed. He looked like a man carrying weight.
“Mark,” she whispered, her throat dry.
He crossed the sidewalk toward her, not loud, but not soft either. “So it’s true.”
Amy’s stomach dropped. “Mark…”
“I had to hear it from Rose,” he said, voice low and tight. “Not from you. From *Rose*.”
Amy clutched the shopping bag against her chest like a shield. “I was going to—”
“When?” His laugh was bitter, not the easy one she’d fallen for. “After our next dinner date? After you let me keep thinking there was something real?”
“Mark, there *was* something real,” Amy said quickly, her chest aching. “You meant something to me. You still—”
“Don’t.” He shook his head sharply, eyes flashing. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. I was all in, Amy. I was ready to give you everything. And you…” He trailed off, his voice breaking. “You chose her.”
The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the passing cars. People were walking by, glancing, pretending not to stare, but Amy could feel the weight of eyes on her, the whispers already forming.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Amy said softly, her eyes burning.
“Yeah, well, you did.” Mark’s voice was quieter now, but the words cut deeper than his anger. “And maybe someday you’ll realize what you threw away.”
He turned and walked off, his figure growing smaller until it disappeared around the corner, leaving Amy standing in the sunlight, shaken and exposed.
She felt her phone buzz in her bag. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. Fiona.
Amy exhaled shakily. The world was watching now. There was no hiding anymore.
---
About the Creator
Crystal Bowie
I enjoy creating stories that will have you sitting for hours and enjoying every read. Things that you can relate to. Or even gain ideas to do. Love, Drama, and some other things to follow
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At first, the days after Amy’s choice felt light, almost dreamlike. Fiona’s loft smelled like coffee and paint, her laughter echoing through the high ceilings as Amy wandered around barefoot, Max curled up in his new favorite spot by the window.
By Crystal Bowie4 months ago in Fiction
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