Mari’s life is steady. Predictable. Chosen.

She and her boyfriend Ed have built something careful and comfortable—shared dinners, inside jokes, the quiet rhythm of a relationship that works. When she signs up for a women-only outdoor adventure retreat called Run Wild Retreats, it feels like a harmless disruption. A few days of mud, muscles, and fresh air. Something physical. Something different. Nothing that could possibly change anything.

At the retreat, everything is unfamiliar but manageable—cabins, hiking trails, shared meals, damp boots lined up by the door. Then she meets Ingrid. Tall, capable, quietly magnetic. Their conversation is effortless from the start. It doesn’t spark; it settles. The kind of ease that feels earned even when it isn’t. They’re assigned the same cabin. They partner up naturally during activities. They fall into a rhythm without trying.

It should feel simple. A new friend. A shared experience. A fleeting retreat connection that will fade once real life resumes.

But something shifts on the cliff edge during an abseiling exercise. Watching Ingrid lean back into the harness—confident, steady, alive—Mari feels a pull she can’t categorize. It isn’t admiration. It isn’t nerves. It’s something sharper. Warmer. When another woman flirts with Ingrid later, the reaction that flares inside Mari is immediate and disorienting. Possessive. Protective. Jealous.

That word lingers long after the moment passes.

Why does it matter who Ingrid laughs with? Why does casual touch land like a bruise? Why does the idea of her choosing someone else feel like something is being taken away?

Mari tells herself it’s exhaustion. Adrenaline. Proximity. She has a boyfriend. A good one. A supportive one. Her life makes sense. There’s no room in it for this sudden, electric awareness of another woman’s mouth, hands, laughter.

But the retreat doesn’t just challenge her body. It strips away the familiar markers she’s used to define herself. Without routine to hide behind, without Ed’s steady presence to anchor her identity, the feelings she’s buried for years begin to surface—quiet memories, forgotten glances, the weight of things she dismissed as coincidence.

Ingrid doesn’t push. She doesn’t label. She simply exists—steady, open, perceptive enough to ask the question Mari is desperate to avoid: Why does this bother you so much?

What starts as a weekend of hiking and shared cabins becomes something far more intimate—a slow unraveling of certainty. Mari isn’t just confronting a crush. She’s confronting the possibility that the life she’s built was shaped around comfort instead of truth.

AM I A LESBIAN? is a slow-burn lesbian romance about self-recognition, desire that refuses to stay quiet, and the fragile line between friendship and forbidden romance. Tender, emotionally charged, and steeped in sapphic longing, this WLW romance traces the quiet ache of a lesbian awakening that doesn’t arrive with fireworks—but with jealousy, denial, and the terrifying clarity of wanting.

A deeply intimate story of identity and first desire, this is a slow-burn lesbian romance about the courage it takes to ask the question—and to live with the answer.

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0GCTQVMKN