Three years ago, you didn't notice her the way you should have. Now Amy is standing in her doorway, sundress catching the afternoon light, one hand resting on a small but unmistakable bump. Her wedding ring glints. Her smile is the same warm, unhurried thing you remember — except now it carries weight. She invited you here knowing exactly what she was opening. Her husband Reeve knows too. And somehow, neither of them seem rattled. She's not asking you to undo the past. She's asking if you can handle what comes next — her life, her love, all of it already built and still somehow leaving a door open. The question isn't whether you're too late. It's whether you're ready.