POV Mira
Amber had a way of making my room feel smaller. Not because she was loud—although, yes, she was—but because she had this energy that filled every inch of space until you either surrendered to it or got steamrolled.
She was sprawled across my couch now, legs tucked under her, sipping from a glass of wine like she owned the place. “Okay,” she said, setting the glass down with a thud. “Start from the top. No skipping. I want all the tea, scalding hot.”
I pressed my palms into my knees. “You’re not going to believe this.”
Amber grinned. “Babe, after Milo’s little art gallery stunt you told me about last week? My belief system has no floor. Go on.”
I inhaled. “It’s not just Milo.”
Her brows shot up. “Ohhh, here we go.”
“It’s Victor too. And… Leo.”
Amber didn’t choke on her wine, but she did sit up straight like someone had just plugged her into a power socket. “Hold on. Hold on.” She made a timeout sign with her hands. “You’re telling me you’ve been… fraternizing with all three Stern triplets?”
I winced. “Fraternizing makes it sound like a corporate retreat gone wrong.”
“Is it wrong?”
“That’s the thing,” I muttered. “I don’t know if it is. I mean… they’re so different. Milo is all reckless heat, Victor’s… God, Victor’s like this quiet storm, and Leo—Leo’s controlled, calculated, but when he lets go it’s—”
Amber was leaning forward, practically vibrating. “—it’s what?”
“Dangerous,” I said, my voice smaller than I meant it to be. “And addictive.”
She gave me a look that was part smug, part scandalized. “So let me get this straight. In the span of, what, a few weeks? You’ve had a private art gallery rendezvous with Milo, go-karted with Victor, and jetted off to Paris with Leo?”
I groaned. “When you say it like that—”
“When I say it like that, you sound like the main character in the kind of book I pay money to read,” she cut in.
“Amber.”
“What? I’m just saying. This isn’t normal. And it’s definitely not boring.”
I rubbed my temples. “It’s not supposed to be about them. It was supposed to be about me… figuring my own life out.”
Amber tilted her head. “You sure you’re not figuring something else out?”
I shot her a look. “Not helpful.”
She smirked. “Fine, let’s make it helpful. Question: Which one do you love?”
That stopped me cold. “I—what?”
“It’s not a hard question.”
“It’s a ridiculous question,” I countered, pushing off the couch to pace. “You’re asking me to pick between… between three completely different gravitational pulls. Three people who… who make me feel like I’m standing in a different universe every time I’m with them.”
Amber propped her chin in her hand. “And?”
“And I…” I faltered. “I love all three of them.”
Her eyes went wide, then narrowed in mock calculation. “You… love all three.”
I nodded, almost ashamed. “In different ways. With Milo, it’s like jumping off a cliff and knowing the fall will be worth it. With Victor, it’s like… finding someone who can read the parts of you you’ve never said out loud. And with Leo…” My voice dipped. “Leo makes me feel like I’m the only person in the room. Like the world bends just slightly to make space for me.”
Amber sat back, letting the words settle. Then, in true Amber fashion, she broke into a grin so wide I wanted to throw a pillow at her. “Then you have all three of them.”
“What?”
“Who says you have to choose?”
I stared at her. “Reality? Morality? Common sense?”
She shrugged. “Overrated. Listen, babe, people spend their whole lives trying to find one person who makes them feel alive. You’ve got three. If they’re stupid enough to compete instead of collaborate, that’s on them. Not you.”
I laughed despite myself. “This isn’t a group project, Amber.”
She wagged a finger. “Oh, but it could be.”
“Stop.”
“Fine, fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But seriously, don’t let anyone rush you into a decision you’re not ready to make. If you love all three, then maybe the question isn’t who you’ll choose—it’s who’s willing to fight hard enough to keep you.”
I sank back onto the couch, exhaling. “There’s something else.”
Amber’s expression sharpened. “Oh, there’s more?”
“I found out my dad’s in the hospital.”
Her mouth fell open. “What? When?”
“Two days ago,” I said quietly. “And you know how I found out? Not from him. Not from family. From someone else entirely—because Leo knew. He knew, Amber. And he didn’t tell me.”
Amber blinked, processing. “Wait—Leo kept that from you?”
“Yes.” The word cracked in my throat. “He said it wasn’t his place. That my dad didn’t want me to know until… I don’t even know when. But that’s not his decision to make. It’s my father. My life. I should’ve been told.”
Amber tilted her head, her tone softening but not losing its blunt edge. “Look, your father has always been overprotective of you. You’ve told me that since college. If he told Leo to keep it quiet, then… Leo was just following orders.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “But it does explain it. You’re mad at Leo for protecting your dad’s wishes when, let’s be honest, your dad’s wishes have been running interference in your life since forever.”
I stared at the wine glass on the table, my chest tight. “I’m still angry. I don’t care whose orders he was following. I deserved to know.”
Amber leaned in, her voice steady. “Then tell him that. You can’t just stew in it and expect him to read your mind. If Leo’s as controlled as you say he is, he needs direct hits, not hints.”
I swallowed hard, my mind already running through the words I’d have to say to him—words that wouldn’t come out clean, words that might burn.
Amber reached over and gave my knee a squeeze. “You’re in deep, babe. With all three of them. But this—this is where you find out which one actually sees you, and not just the version they want you to be.”