Chapter 4 Trust Him Rose
447 Words
“Bellerose,” he whispered once, under the downpour of a summer storm. “Loving you changed everything. I don’t care if it ruins who I used to be — because who I am now is yours.”
He made promises without realizing it — not in grand declarations, but in small, soul-deep moments. He let her see the pieces no one else was allowed to touch. He let her matter.
But it was Santorini that lingered most — the cliffside villa, candlelit dinner, sea-salted air swirling through her dress. She had been laughing, barefoot on sun-warmed stone, when he dropped to one knee.
No script. No ring box flourish. Just Yoel, looking at her like she was the beginning of everything.
“You make me want a future I never thought I’d have,” he said. “A future I never deserved — not until you. Marry me, Bellerose. Let me spend the rest of my life proving I was never meant to love anyone else.”
She had cried into his kiss.
She held on to that memory now, clinging to it like a lifeline as the limousine slid through the quiet streets.
Because last night... last night had shaken her. There had been a flicker in his eyes she couldn’t name. Not coldness, not guilt — but something distant. Like he was already somewhere else.
Not in the way loud fights or slammed doors might — but in the silence.
The way he sat beside her, distant. The way his voice dropped when he spoke of “memories” like they were shackles. And then... “Belle.”
That name. That whisper. That ghost of a moment.
He hadn’t explained. And she hadn’t asked. But still, he’d never given her reason to doubt him. Not truly.
He had always come back. Always been honest when it mattered. Always looked at her like she was the only thing in his world that felt real.
"Trust him, Rose."
She would try. Even if her heart trembled. Even if questions lingered. She would try — because love, she realized, wasn’t about certainty. It was about choosing someone again and again, even when you're scared.
The limousine slowed to a stop. Her pulse did not. The butterflies returned, not from fear — but from the sheer weight of what came next.
A knock at the window.
She turned. One of the wedding staff stood patiently outside, offering a gentle smile.
“We’re here.”
Bellerose turned to the door.
And there it was. The church. The aisle. The forever she once thought impossible.
She lifted her veil. Straightened her spine. Took one last breath.
And opened the door.
- Writer
