Amber rang Martha’s bell, a bunch of flowers in hand. Part of her felt insecure like a teenager would, but the other part couldn’t wait for Martha’s lovely presence to appear in the doorframe.

“Hi.” Martha threw the door wide and then her arms wider. She had dressed up in a shiny pair of black pants and a very revealing top. The darkness of her clothes contrasted with the paleness of her skin. Damn, she looked good. “Welcome to my humble home,” she said.

Amber stepped into Martha’s embrace and pressed a flutter of a kiss onto her cheek.

Martha accepted the flowers with the assured air of a woman who receives bouquets regularly and went to put them in a vase. She poured champagne after holding up the bottle and wordlessly asking for Amber’s agreement.

Martha looked deep into Amber’s eyes when they brought their glasses together for a toast. Something stirred in Amber’s stomach. It wasn’t hunger.

They sat down on the sofa and nibbled on carrot sticks dipped in a Thai-inspired sauce Martha assured her contained no animal products whatsoever. Amber trusted her completely. She looked into Martha’s intriguing eyes and she knew she would tell her about Holly tonight, because it felt like something that needed to be said before they could progress to the next stage. In fact, she would tell her now, with the liquid courage of a few sips of champagne buzzing inside of her, before they sat down at the table for dinner.

“I met her about nine months after my father died. At Mardi Gras of all places. I wasn’t going to go, because I had just stopped drinking and had started eating really healthily. I was going all out on the health front, as if a couple of months of only organic food could make up for the hundreds of pizzas that came before. Anyway, that doesn’t really matter. I met Holly at this party, caught her glance across the room, and it just floored me. We became inseparable, totally caught up in each other, moved in together after only a month—the works. The first year was great. The second year a little less so. The third year everything fell apart. Then she left.” Amber knew she would have to give a bit more information than that. She wasn’t playing the mysterious card on purpose, but it was as though, before she could tell the full story, her brain needed to go over the bullet-point version of her history with Holly first.

“It was too much. Everything about us was too much. I’d just gone on this massive health kick. I’d quit my job and was using my small inheritance to get certified as a yoga teacher. I had planned everything out carefully and allocated the funds available to me so that I would have enough to support myself until I could start teaching. Then I met Holly and I squandered it all on booze, on spontaneous trips to New Zealand and Bali, on presents for her, on a whole bunch of things we didn’t need. When we were together, it was like that. This charge in the air. I felt like everything was possible, and the fact that the money was there at that exact time made it feel even more possible.” Amber paused to drink from her champagne. It slid down remarkably easy. “We fought a lot. Made up a lot. We were really good at making up. In hindsight, I could so clearly see she was the wrong woman for me. That the two of us together short-circuited something in my brain. I didn’t just lose all the money, but all the credit I’d been working up in the yoga studio where I was training. Plus, of course, a good amount of self-respect.”

Amber cut a glance at Martha. While she was talking about Holly, she’d kept her eye firmly fixed on an invisible spot on the wall—a tried-and-tested technique from meditation.

“I knew it could never last, but the real tragedy was that I failed to accept it. Because I loved her. I adored her. To me, she was everything. In the end, she was the one to see reason. She left me. Well, not only me, she left town as well. Claiming that not even a city like Sydney was big enough for both of us. As long as we lived in the same place, we’d always drift back together. It was the nature of how we were as a couple. She left. And things got very dark for me for a while. Because not only did I lose my partner, I lost all my money and all my plans along the way.”

“That must have been really hard.” Martha exuded only kindness.

What had Amber expected anyway? That Martha would think less of her because of a failed past relationship? But that was the thing about that particular relationship: it could still, after all these years, warp her view on things so severely, that Amber always expected the worst.

“Despite losing everything, I did become a yoga teacher.” Amber didn’t enjoy puffing herself up like that, speaking of herself as though her profession in itself was an accomplishment. “Got myself healthy and balanced again. And mainly stayed away from women. There have been a few, but I’ve always been so scared to get sucked in too much.”

“She must have been quite a character if she managed to make you lose interest in the greatest thing in the world for so long,” Martha said. “But I guess it’s good for me. There’s no way you would still be single now if you had been interested all this time. You would have found someone like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Speaking of...” She tipped her champagne glass to her mouth and drained the last of it. “Sheryl told me about you and Caitlin James.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about Caitlin James.”

“She’s back in Sydney.” Was that a tinge of unease in Martha’s voice? Was she jealous more than inquiring? “You’re bound to run into her.”

Amber shrugged. “I hope I do when we’re out together so I can introduce her to the wonderful woman I’m dating.” Amber’s cheeks flushed. She was really turning on the flirting.

Martha sat there smiling for a bit, then leaned in and whispered in Amber’s ear. “I’m glad you told me about Holly. It makes you less mysterious. In a good way.” Then she kissed her lightly on the cheek and said, “Shall we eat now?”

Martha had made a real effort with the food. Roasted pumpkin soup as a starter and stuffed peppers as a main.

Amber wondered what she had been thinking while she had prepared this kind of food she would otherwise not eat? Had Martha made this special effort because she liked Amber so much?

“That was truly delicious. There’s a vegan chef somewhere inside you. I just knew it.” They had finished the bottle of champagne and Amber had eagerly partaken. She was feeling all the more uninhibited for it.

“I understand that you wanted to live a healthier lifestyle, but becoming vegan is a big step.”

“I can recommend a few documentaries that would make you a vegan on the spot.” Amber accompanied her statement with a smile. She didn’t want to go all preachy on Martha. Preaching wasn’t her style anyway, no matter what Micky believed. “But aside from it aligning with my philosophical convictions, eating a plant-based diet just makes me feel really good.”

“I can’t really argue with that.” From the look on Martha’s face, Amber could tell she very much had something else than arguing on her mind.

“Will you come to dinner at my place next weekend?” Amber asked. “I’ll cook you my signature dish.”

“I would be delighted.” Martha’s smile intensified.

Amber mirrored her smile. She knew exactly what Martha was thinking because, she was convinced, she was pretty much thinking the same thing. But tonight wouldn’t be the night. Amber didn’t want to have to rush off in the morning. She wanted it to be special.

“I would love to stay tonight, I really would, but having been away for so long, I’m first in line for any replacement classes. My first one’s at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Who takes a yoga class at eight in the morning on a Sunday?” Martha asked, her smile remaining firmly in place.

“You’d be surprised.” Amber locked her gaze on Martha’s. “Maybe you should come.”

“My first class with you will not be an early Sunday morning one with a bunch of people who actually enjoy doing yoga at that time. That would just be wrong.”

Amber chuckled. “Maybe we can have that private lesson at my place next weekend.”

“Should be quite the weekend.” Martha quirked up her eyebrows.

“I should probably go now.” It wasn’t that late yet, but Amber wasn’t sure that, if she stayed much longer, she’d be able to make it to her class tomorrow. She pushed her chair back.

Martha held up two fingers and just seeing them raised up like that was enough to stop Amber in her tracks, as though they held some sort of kinetic power.

Martha rose and walked over to Amber. She pushed Amber’s chair back further and came to sit, legs astride, on Amber’s lap.

“I wouldn’t want you to forget about me,” she said. Martha pressed her lips to Amber’s cheek bone, then the middle of her cheek, before finally landing on her lips. She cradled the back of Amber’s head in cupped palms and drew her near, pushing her chest hard against Amber’s.

Not a chance of that, Amber thought.