After several minutes of walking, Denisse and Gigi finally reached their destination.
At the end of the path was Denisse's favorite corner of the vineyard: a wooden table and two chairs tucked beneath the wide branches of an old tree. Around them, the vines stretched across the land in endless rows, swaying gently with the breeze.
They settled into the chairs, and for a moment, Gigi simply looked around.
"God..." she breathed. "It's so peaceful here." She inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air fill her lungs. "And it's so far away from the noise of the city."
A small smile touched her lips.
"I could live here forever."
Denisse smiled.
"You can visit anytime you want. You can even stay for a few days. Mom would love having you here."
Gigi looked back at her, still trying to process everything.
"I still can't believe you own this place."
Denisse laughed softly, but then a thought crossed her mind.
"Wait. I just remembered." Denisse frowned. "How did you know I was here? I know I never gave you this address."
"Oh." Gigi shrugged casually. "I asked Ms. Lesley where you might be. She said you were probably here, but she never told me you lived here. I thought you just worked at the vineyard."
The casual mention made Denisse still.
Lesley.
For a brief moment, the warmth of the morning seemed to fade into the background.
Gigi noticed the change immediately.
"Oh..." Her expression softened. "I'm sorry, I—"
"It's fine." Denisse gave her a small smile before she could finish.
Before either of them could say more, footsteps approached.
A helper arrived carrying their snacks, placing a tray of freshly squeezed orange juice and pastries on the table.
"Thank you, Martha," Denisse said.
Martha smiled, nodded, and quietly excused herself.
Denisse picked up her glass and took a slow sip, her gaze drifting beyond the vineyard rows stretching in front of them.
Gigi watched her carefully.
She knew that look.
After a moment, she spoke.
"Aren't you going to ask how she was these past few weeks?"
Denisse's fingers tightened slightly around the glass.
She wanted to ask.
She had wanted to ask since the moment Gigi arrived.
Was she okay?
Was she sleeping well?
Was she eating properly?
Did she miss her?
There were so many things Denisse wanted to know.
But there was also a part of her that was afraid of the answers.
What if Gigi told her that Lesley was fine without her?
What if she had already moved on?
What if the person Denisse had spent all this time missing had already learned how to live without her?
"Okay, I know you won't admit it, but I know you really wanted to know."
Gigi said it lightly, almost teasing, but Denisse knew her too well to miss the look that followed.
Denisse only lifted her eyes from the glass in her hands. Condensation had gathered beneath her palm, cold and damp against her skin. She held Gigi's gaze for a moment before looking away, her fingers tightening slightly around the glass.
She lowered the glass onto the table with a quiet clink. In the silence that followed, the sound seemed louder than it should have been.
Gigi watched her.
"Well," she began, drawing the word out. "She buried herself at work."
Denisse's fingers stilled.
"She works tirelessly. Her new secretary said she's been doing overtime almost every day. Even on weekends."
Denisse swallowed.
She kept her eyes on the table, tracing the faint ring of moisture the glass had left behind. Her hand tightened around her knee beneath the table.
Gigi continued, quieter now.
"She lost weight, too. She barely eats."
Something pulled painfully beneath Denisse's ribs.
Her chest felt suddenly too tight for a normal breath.
She knew what she wanted to ask.
Is it because of me?
The question rose to her throat, but she couldn't make herself say it.
Because if the answer was yes, what was she supposed to do with that?
She had been trying not to imagine Lesley these past few weeks. Trying not to picture her sitting alone at her desk long after everyone else had gone home, the office lights still burning while the rest of the building went dark.
Trying not to wonder if Lesley still reached for her phone out of habit.
Trying not to wonder if she ever typed Denisse's name and then deleted it.
Gigi leaned back in her chair, studying her.
"Are you really going to let this go that far?"
Denisse finally looked at her.
"You two clearly love each other," Gigi said. "Why let misunderstandings and a bitch ex ruin the happiness you had?"
Denisse's jaw tightened.
Love.
The word hurt more now than it ever had when everything between them had been easy.
"I don't know if she ever wants to see me again, Gi."
Her voice came out quieter than she intended.
"She was so hurt because of me." Denisse looked down at her hands. "I didn't trust her enough. I made her feel like, whenever something confused me, she wasn't the first person I'd lean on. The first person I'd ask."
Gigi's expression softened.
"Babe, everyone makes mistakes."
Denisse gave a small, humorless breath.
"You two made mistakes with each other," Gigi continued. "You both hurt each other. Are you two really going to play the same game you did before? Keep waiting for the other person to make the first move?"
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Denisse's gaze drifted across the vineyard, following the rows of vines stretching beneath the soft morning sun. Dew still clung to the leaves, catching the light whenever the breeze stirred them. Somewhere nearby, birdsong rose and faded among the trees.
For a moment, she let her eyes rest on the familiar landscape, wishing she could go back to the version of herself who had been brave enough to say what she wanted.
"I just…"
Her throat tightened.
"I just don't have the courage to face her after what I've done to her."
Gigi didn't interrupt.
Denisse pressed her lips together, trying to hold back the ache that had been sitting inside her for weeks.
"She was sincere from the first time she kissed me, Gi."
The memory came without permission.
Lesley's hand at her waist.
The hesitation before their lips met.
The warmth of her breath.
The way Denisse had wanted to ask what they were afterward, but had convinced herself there would be time.
There had always seemed to be time.
"And because I wanted to know where we stood so badly, I let myself overlook everything that should've mattered." Her voice shook. "I didn't ask. I didn't demand an answer. I just kept waiting for her to give me the place in her life I was too afraid to ask for." She lowered her eyes. "And while I was waiting for that answer, I ignored everything she was already giving me."
She rubbed her thumb against the side of her finger, over and over.
"Sometimes I wonder…"
The words caught.
"What if I'd asked her the day after we first kissed?"
Gigi remained silent.
"What if I'd just asked her what she wanted? What if I'd told her what I wanted instead of waiting for her to figure it out?"
Denisse stared at the juice on the table.
"Would everything have gone differently?"
The conversation fell quiet for a moment. A breeze moved through the vines, carrying the soft rustle of leaves across the vineyard.
Denisse's shoulders sagged.
"I never thought my hesitation back then would lead us here."
Her voice was barely above a whisper now.
"Where we hurt each other. Where we're in two different places."
She laughed once, but there was nothing amused in it.
"We used to have dinner together. Weekend dates. She'd text me stupid things during the day just because she knew they'd make me laugh."
Her eyes burned.
"Now…"
She stopped.
There was nothing to add.
Not a single text.
Not even a simple good morning.
Denisse blinked hard, but the tears spilled anyway.
"If I'd known it would come to this, I should've told her everything that night."
Her voice broke.
"I should've just told her."
Gigi's expression crumpled.
"I miss her."
The first sob escaped before Denisse could stop it.
She covered her mouth with one hand, but another followed, shaking through her chest. The tears came faster now, hot against her cheeks.
"I really miss her, Gi."
Gigi pushed her chair back immediately.
She crossed the small space between them and pulled Denisse into her arms.
Denisse didn't resist.
The moment Gigi's arms closed around her, whatever she had been holding together finally gave way. She folded into her friend's shoulder, gripping the back of Gigi's shirt as sobs shook through her.
Gigi stroked her hair slowly.
"I know," she whispered.
Denisse squeezed her eyes shut.
"And I know for sure Lesley feels the same."
Denisse's breathing hitched.
"She wouldn't bury herself in work like this if she didn't miss you. If she didn't want to talk to you."
Gigi held her tighter.
"But one of you has to make a move, babe."
Denisse said nothing.
She only cried, her face pressed against Gigi's shoulder, while the untouched glass of juice sat forgotten on the table.
For the first time in weeks, she let herself stop pretending that she could live comfortably with the distance.
She missed Lesley.
And somewhere, beneath all the hurt and anger and everything neither of them had said, she could only hope Lesley missed her too.