The house felt different after the gala.
Not quieter Dean’s home had never truly been quiet but heavier, like the walls themselves were adjusting to a new truth. The truth that Dean Knight had stood in front of a room full of powerful people and chosen us. Out loud. Without hesitation.
That kind of choice doesn’t fade overnight.
I felt it the next morning before I even opened my eyes.
Dean’s arm was wrapped around my waist, his hand resting just above my hip, warm and steady. His breathing was slow, but his body wasn’t completely relaxed. Even in sleep, he carried responsibility like a second spine.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like a guest in his bed.
I felt like I belonged there.
I turned slightly, careful not to wake him, and watched the sunlight creep across
