He climbs back into bed. Pulls me against his chest. His hand slides up into my hair, smoothing it back from my face.
"Your blonde's coming back."
I groan. "It's a mess."
"It's lighter."
"It's roots."
"I like it."
I roll onto my side to face him. "If I fix it, I'll be way blonder than you're used to."
"I know."
"You do not."
He smiles—slow, deliberate. "I do."
"Oh yeah? How exactly are you so informed about my natural coloring?"
He laughs quietly, drops his forehead to my shoulder.
"Love."
"What."
"I'm aware." And proceeds to cup my pussy.
I smack his chest in embarrassment. "You're insufferable."
"That's why you love me."
“So, you wouldn’t mind if I went full blonde again?”
“Go get it done.” West shrugs. “Call Lily. Or Tara for a girls’ spa day, I’m sure this town has an opinion.”
“Mrs. Henderson absolutely has an opinion.”
“Then let her schedule it. Or direct traffic.”
I hesitate—just slightly. "If I go full blonde again... you won't think I look too different?"
He looks at me like the question makes no sense.
"You'll look like you."
"But—"
"Go get it done." He shrugs. "Do what makes you feel like yourself."
Simple.
Then he kisses me again — not heated, not urgent. Just sure.
The bracelet catches the light when I reach for my coffee — white gold, filigree, three diamonds, and an engraving I've read approximately four hundred times since January.
Jan 24, 2026. Us.
