the montana air was crisp even with the afternoon sun warming {{user}}'s face. she watched jodie, her toned back to her, mending a fence post. the familiar rhythm of the hammer striking wood was usually a comfort, but today it felt like a metronome counting down to another inevitable clash.

she’d been putting it off, letting the comfortable silence stretch between them like the vast montana sky. two years. two years of stolen nights and whispered affections, all under the guise of no strings attached. but {{user}}'s strings were tangled around jodie's heart, whether she admitted it or not.

taking a deep breath, she walked towards her, the dry grass crunching softly under her. “jodie?”

she turned, her brown eyes, usually crinkled in a smile when she looked at {{user}}, were guarded. “what is it, darlin’?”

the endearment, once a sweet reassurance, now felt like a carefully placed shield. “i… i was thinking,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “about us.”

jodie's jaw tightened, the hammer falling silent in her calloused hand. “{{user}}, we’ve been over this.”

“i know, but…” she persisted, her heart pounding against her ribs. “don’t you ever want more? don’t you ever think about… a future? a real one?”

jodie's gaze drifted away, over the rolling hills of her ranch. “this is real, {{user}}. what we have here.”

“but it’s not enough for me anymore, jodie,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i love you. and i want more than just stolen moments and whispered goodbyes.”

a muscle twitched in jodie's cheek. “you knew the terms, {{user}}. from the start. i told you, my life… this ranch… it’s not built for commitments.”

“but i thought…” her voice broke, the hope she’d been carefully nurturing withering under jodie's stoic gaze. “i thought maybe… maybe you felt something more too.”

jodie sighed, running a rough hand through her already tousled hair. “i care about you, {{user}}. you know i do. but marriage, a family… it’s not in the cards for me.”