Under the Vineyard Sky

Chapter 3

Isabella sat at the kitchen table, picking at her dinner. Her parents had gone all out with a hearty meal—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a salad filled with fresh greens from the garden. The house smelled like home, like everything that had once been simple and right. And yet, as she stared down at her plate, it all felt foreign, like she didn’t belong here anymore.

Her parents had been talking about the vineyard all evening, recounting their plans for the next harvest, the changes they were thinking of making to the winery. She nodded along, her thoughts far away. Her mom had asked about her writing, her dad had mentioned how much they missed her presence in the house, but Isabella had smiled through it all, offering brief, noncommittal responses.

The truth was, she wasn’t sure how to answer their questions. She had expected this—coming back, returning to the place where everything had started—but it still felt like a puzzle she couldn’t quite fit together. How could she explain to them that she didn’t feel like the same person who had left years ago? That the life she had tried to build outside of Sonoma felt more real than the one she had left behind?

Her mind wandered to New York. She had left Sonoma to pursue her writing career in the city, and it had been everything she dreamed of. The excitement, the opportunities, the fast pace—it was exactly what she needed at the time. She had gotten a job at a publishing house, worked with talented editors, and even managed to land a book deal. Her life had felt full of possibility, a whirlwind of events and new experiences. But the noise, the constant rush of life in New York had taken its toll. Somewhere between deadlines and crowded streets, she had lost touch with herself.

Then, of course, there was David. The breakup with him had been the final straw, pushing her to return to Sonoma to heal. She had been in the relationship for so long, too focused on building a life with someone else, that she had neglected the most important thing—herself.

The sound of her father’s chair scraping the floor pulled her out of her thoughts. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, concern in his voice.

Isabella looked up, meeting his gaze. Her father’s face was weathered, his gray hair a little more prominent these days, but his eyes were still sharp, full of the same quiet strength she had always admired. He was a man of few words, but when he spoke, you listened.

“Yeah, just tired,” she replied, offering a faint smile. She didn’t want to get into it now—not with them. They’d always expected her to succeed, to make a name for herself outside of this place, and she had. But now, here she was, feeling like she had failed somehow. Her breakup with David still stung, the sting of unmet expectations and broken promises lingering in her chest.

Her mother, ever the perceptive one, didn’t press further but gave her a soft smile. “You know, honey, we kept your room the way you left it. In case you ever needed it.”

Isabella’s heart twisted at the thought. It had been years since she had been in that room—the room where she had grown up, where she had dreamed about becoming a writer, where she had first kissed Ethan. The memories flooded back with surprising intensity. The smell of her old perfume on the pillows. The sound of the wind rustling through the trees outside her window. And, most haunting of all, the place where she and Ethan had shared their last conversation before she left for college, before everything had changed.

Her parents were busy chatting about their plans for the winery, and Isabella’s mind wandered again. The mention of the vineyard and her childhood room brought back a rush of memories. In her mind’s eye, she could see the path that led down to the old oak tree, the one where she and Ethan used to meet after school. The same tree that had been a witness to so many moments—moments of laughter, of first loves, and of unspoken words.

Isabella placed her fork down, feeling a need for fresh air. “I’m going for a walk,” she said, standing up quickly.

“Of course, sweetheart,” her mother said, not even looking up from her salad. “Be careful. It’s getting dark.”

Isabella smiled, though the gesture felt forced. “I will.”

She grabbed her jacket and headed for the door, the cool evening air greeting her as she stepped outside. The sun had almost fully set, and the sky was streaked with soft oranges and purples. The vineyard stretched out before her, the rows of grapevines twisting and turning like a ribbon through the earth. The air was thick with the scent of damp soil and growing things, the fragrance of Sonoma itself.

As she walked down the familiar path to the old oak tree, Isabella’s thoughts turned inward. It wasn’t just the memories that were haunting her; it was the feeling of unfinished business. Of leaving without saying goodbye, without understanding what had happened between her and Ethan. She had left the vineyard and never looked back, but now, she was back, and the past felt like it was just waiting to catch up with her.

The crunch of leaves underfoot was the only sound as she neared the oak tree. She reached out, running her hand along the rough bark, just as she had done so many times before. The memories of her younger self came flooding back—the teenager full of dreams, in love with the idea of escaping the small town for something bigger. But Ethan had been a part of that dream, hadn’t he? They’d talked about the future, about leaving together, about everything that was possible. It seemed so far away now, like another lifetime.

Isabella closed her eyes for a moment, letting the cool breeze wash over her. She could still hear Ethan’s voice in her mind, teasing her about how she’d change when she went off to college. How she’d forget about him, about this place. And in some ways, he had been right. She had changed. But she hadn’t forgotten him. Not completely.

“Isabella?”

The voice was low, hesitant, and familiar. Her heart skipped a beat, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat. Slowly, she turned around.

There, standing just a few feet away, was Ethan. The same Ethan but changed. Taller, more muscular, with that same rugged handsomeness she remembered. His hair was shorter now, but his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—were the same.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of the years between them seemed to stretch out in the silence. Then, finally, Ethan broke the quiet.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he said softly.

Isabella’s heart pounded in her chest. She couldn’t find the words right away, but when she did, they came out in a whisper. “I didn’t think I’d be back.”

Ethan took a step forward, his gaze never leaving hers. “It’s been a long time, Izzy.”

She nodded, the name echoing in her mind like a distant song. She had left so many things behind when she left for college. But here, standing in front of him, the past felt very much alive.