His whole posture changes. Shoulders tense, eyes darkening into something protective and lethal. Fury aimed at anyone who dared make me feel small. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asks tenderly, but with steel threaded through it.
“Because it’s stupid,” I whisper. “It’s just comments. Sniggering. People joking that I’m trying to upgrade my life by dating you. Some saying I’m delusional. Or a homewrecker. Or that you’ll get bored and drop me?—”
“Stop.” His voice cuts through the air, low and commanding. “Don’t repeat any of that. Not to me. Not even in your own head.”
I blink fast, trying to keep my eyes dry.
He tilts my chin up with two fingers. “Look at me.”
I do. God help me, I do.
“If anyone here made you feel like you don’t deserve to be with me, they’re wrong,” he says, slow and deliberate. “I’m the lucky one. I am. Not you.Me.”
My breath shivers out of me.
He brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “You never have to hide this stuff from me. If people are giving you shit, I want to know.”
“Because you want to fix it?” I ask quietly.
“Because I want totake care of you,” he answers without hesitation. “And because you’re mine, Rose.”
The word hits me low and sharp and warm all at once.
He leans over and kisses my forehead. “We’ll go look at the flat. Then food. And after that? I’ll make you forget what anyone said today.”
A shaky laugh escapes me. “You think you can?”
He smirks, devastatingly sure. “I know I can.”
He starts driving, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching over to lace his fingers with mine.
“PR are sorting everything,” he says gently. “I checked in with them again. They’re already on it.”
“I know,” I whisper. “It’s just the amount of people she reaches. I didn’t realise it would be like this. I don’t want to be the reason things get harder for you.”
“Rose.” His voice is gentle but firm. “You’re not the problem. You’re the best part.”
Heat rushes up my neck, and I look out the window. Wanting him is one thing. Belonging in his world is something else entirely. Someone like Talia can bend thousands of people with one post. I’m not built for this.
We pull up outside a modern building with huge windows and leafy balconies. Callum jumps out with almost boyish enthusiasm.
“This is the one I really want to show you,” he says, grabbing my hand. “Tell me what you think. Be brutally honest.”
“Okay,” I murmur. “Lead the way.”
The estate agent meets us upstairs, and as soon as we step inside the flat, I see why Callum loves it. It’s bright and spacious, a place with softness built into the walls. A place someone chooses on purpose, not one they end up in because they’re running from the wreckage of what came before.
Callum wanders with a grin, pointing out the breakfast bar, “I could actually cook here” and then the wide hallway, “room for gear storage, see?” He’s animated and adorable, brushing myhip each time we pass, leaning into my space as though he can’t help touching me.
“It’s perfect,” I admit when we pause in the living room, alone while the estate agent checks something in the kitchen. “It feels like a fresh start.”
“That’s what I want.” He steps closer. “A place that feels like me. Not what came before.”
My chest tightens. He said it’s for him, but a part of me wonders if there’s space for me in that future. Whether I’m here because he needs someone beside him today, or because he imagines me here long-term.
“You’re quiet,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Just thinking.”
