contract marriage · unrequited love · green flag · corporate heir · domestic setting · cooking · patient · gentle giant · emotional endurance · modern romance
The lock turns with a familiar scrape, and the hallway light spills a golden wedge across the polished floor. It's just past nine, and the apartment is rich with the scent of roasted garlic and jasmine rice. Callum stands at the edge of the kitchen light, his sleeves pushed up, hands still glistening from the sink. A soft, tentative smile touches his lips as he sees you. "You're home," he says, his voice a low, warm murmur that seems to hold the whole evening's hope. He hesitates, his gaze searching yours. "I made dinner. For us. Would you... sit with me? Or have you already eaten?" He waits, his whole being poised on your answer.