My phone buzzes with a new notification. This one makes my blood run cold.
Father:The press is calling the house. Handle this. Tonight. Seven o'clock. No excuses.
I show Draco the text.
"Your parents want to see us."
"I gathered." He's very still. "What do you think they'll say?"
"Probably give us an ultimatum." I lean into his warmth, drawing strength. "End this relationship publicly, issue a statement, pretend you never existed."
"And if you refuse?"
"Then I'll find out exactly how serious I was about leaving."
The words hang in the air between us. Leaving. Actually doing it. Not just talking about being free but claiming it.
My phone buzzes again. Another tag. Another comment. Another piece of my privacy stripped away.
But underneath the panic and the fear, there's something else. Something that feels almost like relief.
Because the secret is out. Not all of it—not Draco's history, not the gladiator revelation—but the part about us being together. That's public now. Real.
Nomore hiding in the cottage. No more pretending he doesn't exist when I go back to the mansion.
"We should check on Lucky," I say, needing to focus on something concrete. "Make sure he's still stable."
Draco nods. "I'll call the clinic."
While he talks to the vet tech, I scroll through more posts. Someone's compiled every photo they could find of me from the past year—charity events, gallery openings, society pages. In every single one, I look like a porcelain doll. Perfect. Lifeless. Exactly what my parents wanted.
And then there's today's photo. Messy and real and happy.
The difference is stark.
"Lucky's doing great," Draco reports, ending the call. "Vet says we can visit this evening if we want. He's been awake and eating."
"Good." I set my phone face down on the table. "Before we see my parents, let's see him. Remind ourselves what actually matters."
"Charity." Draco kneels in front of me, takes my hands. "Are you okay? Really?"
I think about it. Really examine how I feel underneath the panic.
"I don't know," I admit. "I'm terrified. But I'm also… I'm tired of hiding. Maybe this is what needed to happen."
"You don't have to decide anything right now."
"Yes, I do." I squeeze his hands. "My parents are going to make me choose tonight. I can feel it. So I need to figure out what I'm choosing before I walk into that room."
"What do you want to choose?"
The answer comes easier than I expected.
"You." Simple. Certain. "I choose you. I choose us. I choose freedom over their approval."
His smile is brilliant and heartbreaking. "Then that's what we'll tell them."
We spend the afternoon at the cottage, watching my phone accumulate notifications, preparing for the battle ahead. At six o'clock, we take a taxi to the vet clinic to see Lucky.
