The Chubby Wife He Couldn't Forget

Chapter 6

DAISY

Breakfast had been a battlefield of forced smiles and Olivia’s lingering perfume. The second it ended, I escaped upstairs to our bedroom, not even bothering to watch Camden leave for work. I needed air that wasn’t poisoned with judgment. Alone, at least no one would call me chunky or a mistake.

I’m a writer and editor. Stories are my escape, and luckily I work from home. I powered up my laptop, sinking into the plush chair by the window. Words flowed—thankfully not about my disaster of a life. Time vanished. Noon hit before I realized, my neck was stiff and stomach was heavily rumbling.

A knock pulled me out. I groaned loudly, who could that possibly be? “Come in.”

The butler entered with his usual polite bow. “Madam, your ride is ready.”

I blinked. “What ride?”

“Young Master Camden prepared a special surprise to make up for skipping the honeymoon. All you need to do is look pretty and get into the car.”

My heart stuttered. A surprise? For me? Part of me wanted to say no—maybe it was another setup to humiliate me publicly, another “Oh” moment like his mom’s. But a bigger part whispered 'yes". No one had ever surprised me. No birthdays with cakes, no random celebrations. Just constant body shaming and being the debt-clearing daughter.

"He married you for his pride," a cynical voice reminded me. But I shoved it down. “Fine. Tell him I’ll be ready soon.”

I changed quickly, picking a sleek black dress I’d never dared wear before. It was shorter, tighter, hugging my curves instead of hiding them. Mom would’ve screamed about how it showed “how fat” I was. Screw that. I was done shrinking. I stared in the mirror, turning side to side. My tummy, hips, thighs—they were mine. Soft. Real. And today, they looked good. I slipped on heels, grabbed a clutch, and headed out with my head a little higher.

The driver dropped me at an upscale restaurant downtown. My heels clicked confidently as I entered. Camden stood when he saw me, and his jaw actually dropped. Those whiskey eyes widened, scanning me slowly like he’d forgotten how to blink.

“Wow,” he breathed as I approached. He pulled out my chair like a true gentleman. “Daisy… you look incredible.”

"Thank you" I blushed a little.

We ordered—steak for him, pasta for me—and the conversation started light but quickly turned deeper. He couldn’t stop staring. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered at one point, almost like he didn’t realize he’d said it out loud.

I laughed softly, twirling my fork. “You keep saying that. Are you trying to butter me up before you lock me in another room?”

He grinned, that playful spark lighting his face. “Only if you try escaping again. But seriously, Daisy. Tell me about you. Not the debt or the arrangement. The real stuff.”

I hesitated, then opened up. “I write romance stories, actually. Escapes where the girl always wins in the end. Funny how life doesn’t match the books.” I shrugged. “What about you? Future CEO who can’t tie his own tie?”

He chuckled, rich and warm. “Guilty. Dad’s a hardass about discipline—makes me show up every day like any employee. But with you… I never expected marriage like this. Fast and forced. Yet here we are. I’m willing to put in the work if you are. And show real effort. No more window jumping.”

I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest despite everything. “Same. I’m tired of being the family joke. Maybe we can figure this out.”

His hand brushed mine across the table, sending tiny sparks racing up my arm. The way he looked at me—like I was the only woman in the world made my stomach flip in the best way.

After dessert, he stood. “There’s somewhere else we need to go.”

"Where?"

"It's a surprise Dee, you should chill " He said smiling, he had a very beautiful smile by the way.

"I always knew it this man has been trying to kidnap me, today is the day. Oh Lord, help me." I joked.

"Haha... very funny" He joked back.

We pulled up at a massive movie theater. The lights were on, but the place looked deserted. I frowned as we walked in. “Camden, they’ve closed. We should....”

He hushed me gently, pressing one finger to my lips. The touch was electric. “They're not closed, I rented the whole place. Just for us.”

My eyes widened. “You did what? That’s… insane. And kind of amazing.”

We settled into the best seats, the screen was huge and private. The romantic comedy started, full of witty banter and stolen glances. Halfway through a tender scene....two leads finally admitting their feelings—Camden turned to me. His fingers tilted my chin up, the same gentle move that always made my heart race.

Then he kissed me.

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant. His lips were soft but firm, warm like melted chocolate and confidence. A spark ignited low in my belly as he deepened it, tasting faintly of the wine from dinner. My first kiss. I froze for half a second, then adapted, kissing him back with all the pent-up longing I’d buried under years of rejection. Heat bloomed across my skin. His hand cupped my face tenderly while the other rested on my waist, pulling me closer. The world narrowed to the press of his mouth, the soft sigh he made against my lips, the way my curves fit against his solid frame. It was fireworks and safety all at once....a passionate, hungry, yet strangely sweet kiss. My toes curled in my heels. Time stopped. I felt desired. Beautiful and most especially, I felt wanted.

He finally pulled back, breathing a little ragged, his eyes were dark with something deeper. A slow, devastating smile curved his lips.

“Can I kiss you again?” he asked, voice low and romantic, like velvet in the dark theater.