At the intersection i could go right and head home -but

The crossroads

She had a restless night. She got up, but she felt weak and her head was heavy. She put on the jeans and shirt she had left on the chair the night before, briefly brushed her hair, and applied a touch of lipstick to counteract her obvious pallor. Glancing at the clock, she realised she was already late. She swallowed a cup of coffee and hurried out of the house, reached her car, and set off.

Always racing against time, which never seemed to be enough. Today was going to be a demanding day—she had to conclude the negotiation and, at last, achieve the long-dreamed-of promotion. A significant milestone, certainly. Sitting in the car, her back sank into the seat, her hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, her gaze lost in the distance. Everything around her seemed indifferent, even though she ought to have felt excited about the promotion she had so long desired.

This was certainly not the emotion she had expected. In the distance, the junction appeared ahead on the road—just 200 metres separated her from her past. She slowed down. A whirlwind of thoughts flooded her mind. What should she do? She had passed that crossroads so many times before, and each time she had wondered how Fiadh was, what she was doing, and what might have happened if she had never left…

But now her life was different—there were other things to consider, goals to achieve, rewards to pursue, though without love. Only 30 metres remained to the crossroads. To continue straight ahead or to turn right? Her instinct told her to pull over for a few seconds, to regain her composure.

She could not abandon her career. What would they say at work? She was a prisoner to the judgement of others, and, above all, that success fed her ego. She had always been ambitious—just as her father had taught her.

She resumed her journey, passed the sign pointing towards Bellimore, and drove straight ahead, trying not to think of anything—trying to forget it all.

The negotiation concluded with great success. She received dozens of congratulations, followed by drinks with colleagues and the director, who harboured a certain attraction towards her.

Grace was a beautiful young woman, with raven-black hair falling halfway down her back, striking blue eyes framed by fine eyebrows, an elongated face, and a small yet full mouth that revealed perfect teeth. The director, Mr O’Connor—a married man with courteous manners and a charming gaze—approached her and said,

“I would very much like to invite you to dinner one of these evenings, to continue the celebrations…”

Grace gently stepped back.

“Thank you for the invitation, but I’m rather tired this evening—it’s been a long and demanding day.”

“Of course, I understand—you only ever think about work. You should enjoy yourself more; you’re so young!”

“You’re right—I’ll consider your invitation. But for now, I must go.”

She looked around and suddenly felt that this world no longer belonged to her. A strong desire to escape welled up within her.

“Grace, are you leaving so soon? Come on, stay a little longer with us!”

But she had to go. She made her farewells and hurried to her car. At last—alone! She set off once more. There was no one waiting for her at home, only the promotion, an excellent salary, the security she had worked so hard for and sacrificed everything to attain.

And then there was the past—Fiadh, the hills, the meadows, the woods with the animals. Fleeting images flashed through her mind, and everything felt confused. She looked at the road; in the distance, the same junction. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her jaw clenched. A subtle unease had slowly crept through her body.

How much longer could she endure this?

Only a few metres remained. She suddenly turned the wheel and took a wide country road, flanked by vast meadows and gentle, familiar hills.

Blessed is the little voice that whispers and guides our lives, she thought.

She let her eyes drink in all the green and breathed deeply. To her right, the sign for Bellimore came into view, and she followed it.

She thought, Fiadh lives there—with many animals, sunlight, brightness, and fresh air. Perhaps she’s still waiting for me.

She breathed in deeply—once, twice, three times. A sudden wave of emotion surged within her. She filled her lungs and let out a cry.

There was no one around—and even if there had been, what did it matter?

She shouted at the top of her voice:

“ENOUGH!”

The air on her face, her hair blowing in the wind, the sunlight enveloping her completely and illuminating the landscape around her. The car sped along the country road, and the phone rang persistently—it was Mr O’Connor—but Grace did not answer, because she no longer cared.

What she had always wanted, yet denied for so long, was there—among those green fields, within those woods. She continued straight for several kilometres. Then, in the distance, she first saw the horse—its coat dappled black and white, its long, wavy mane shining in the sunlight.

She pulled the car over to a wide clearing, stepped out, and stood still for a few moments. She struggled to hold back the tears as a surge of emotion overwhelmed her. She walked along the fence, and as she approached with quick steps, she whispered,

“Gipsy, I’m back.”

The long neck turned, and the horse’s blue eyes met her own. She was a Tovero—a strong and intelligent horse. She moved from one side of the enclosure to the other as Grace made her way towards her. She climbed over the wooden fence, approached slowly, and began to stroke her muzzle. Then she wrapped her arms around her neck. The strong, familiar scent of horse filled her senses, and she realised just how far away she had been.

She placed her foot on the wooden fence and mounted the horse’s back. Without a saddle or reins, clinging to her long neck, the horse began to walk. The rhythm of her hooves matched the beating of Grace’s heart, her eyes closed to hold in the overwhelming joy…

And so they circled for a few minutes, until the rhythmic flow of emotion was broken by the sudden sound of frantic barking.

A cry escaped her lips: “Kira!”

The horse stopped, as if she had understood. Grace dismounted, gently stroked her muzzle and whispered, “I’ll be back soon.” Then she climbed over the fence and opened her arms.

“Kira, come here—let me see you!”

The dog ran to her, jumping around excitedly.

“You’ve grown so much! I missed you terribly!”

She knelt down to stroke the thick, reddish fur.

From the shed, Fiadh watched the scene silently, with a smile slowly forming on her lips.

So much time has passed, she thought, but now she’s back—and I know it’s for good.

Suddenly, Grace sensed her presence and turned her head in her direction.

Both women stood still, silent, as emotions whirled with incredulity. They looked at each other, each with a hidden longing to reach out, to touch each others after being so long apart.

Grace rose to her feet and waited for her to approach.

Fiadh walked towards her, came a little closer with a smile, looked her in the face and said, “I have never seen such a courageous act.”

“I am so afraid,” she confessed in a whisper,and she looked away

“You’re home now.”

“All that time, wasted…” Grace lowered her gaze, guilt weighing on her.

“Time has taught you the difference between the life you were living and what truly made you happy. The moment for decisions could only be now.”

Grace never cried, but now the tears rose suddenly, and she could no longer hold them back. Emotions stirred within her like a rushing river. She wanted to embrace Fiadh tightly, but a kind of shyness held her back.

The sun was setting; the light was soft and golden.

Fiadh gently brushed aside Grace’s long raven-black hair—like Gipsy’s mane, she thought—while Grace kept her eyes lowered and a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Then Fiadh softly took her chin and slowly lifted her face, gently overcoming her resistance, until their blue eyes met and reflected each other, like mirrors.

Grace was small and delicate, while Fiadh was tall and strong. Grace wept with relief. Even with her eyes swollen from tears, she’s still beautiful, Fiadh thought.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about,” she whispered.

Fiadh wrapped her arms around Grace’s waist. Grace sighed and completely surrendered to her strong embrace.

“Not now. You need to rest,” Fiadh added. Then she kissed her forehead tenderly, took her hand, and led her home.