Hay There, My Love?

The air hung thick and sweet with the scent of drying grass, a familiar perfume that clung to Maya’s clothes and hair like a second skin. It was late afternoon, the sun beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of apricot and rose. Usually, this time of day brought a contented weariness, the satisfying ache of a day’s work done. But today, a knot of anxiety had begun to tighten in her stomach, a prickly feeling that had been growing with each passing hour.

He was late. Not just a little bit late, the kind where you’re stuck in traffic or stopped for a quick chat with a neighbor. This was ‘gone-radio-silent’ late. His phone had been going straight to voicemail for the last two hours, and the usual flurry of texts that punctuated their days had dwindled to nothing. Maya chewed on her lip, her gaze drifting from the neatly stacked bales behind her to the dusty track that led away from the farm stall.

Each time a car rumbled in the distance, her heart gave a hopeful little leap, only to sink again when it turned out to be a local farmer or a delivery truck. She’d replayed their last conversation a dozen times in her head, searching for any hint of trouble, any reason for his sudden disappearance. Had she said something wrong? Was he… was he having second thoughts about something? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, despite the warmth of the fading sun.