But it does.
“It wasn’t just a bad marriage,” I say, slowly. “It was… erosion. Quiet, constant. The kind that makes you question whether it was ever really yours, or if you just wandered into someone else’s version of who you were meant to be.”
He says nothing. And somehow, that makes it easier to keep going.
“Jeremy didn’t hit me. He didn’t yell. But he chipped away at me until I was just… small. Useful. Convenient. He didn’t want a partner. He wanted a personal assistant who knew when to smile and when to disappear.”
I hear the shift in Callum’s breath — subtle, but present.
“I stayed because of Vicky. And when she left, I realised I had no idea who I was without her, or him, or the version of myself I kept pretending was fine. So I left. And now I’ve rebuilt this life, piece by piece. Carefully. Quietly.”
Another breath. “And I’m scared,” I say. “Not of you, exactly. Just… of wanting something again that could pull it all apart.”
There’s a long pause. For a second, I think maybe I’ve said too much. Maybe I’ve loaded the moment with too much weight, too much truth.
But then he speaks, and his voice is low and steady and completely different.
“Stella,” he says, “you’re not someone who gets pulled apart.”
I don’t speak. I’m not sure I can.
“You’re made of tougher stuff than that. You’re—” his voice falters, like he’s choosing his words carefully, “—you’re stardust. The kind that doesn’t ask to be held, only to be seen. The kind that makes people realise they’ve been walking blind.”
My chest stutters.
“You didn’t crumble,” he adds. “You left. You built something better. That’s not weak. That’s fucking extraordinary.”
I close my eyes, and for a moment I don’t feel like I’m lying in bed alone. I feel like I’m standing somewhere steady, and someone’s finally keeping watch while I rest.
“You’re going to be fine,” he says gently. “And I’ll be careful. With you. Always.”
A tear slips sideways across my cheek. I let it fall.
“If I ever do something that makes you uncomfortable,” he says, “you have to tell me. Straight away. Don’t hold it in. Don’t give me the benefit of the doubt.”
My chest tightens. “Okay.”
“I mean it, Stella. Not just about sex or work. Anything. If I snap. If I get distant. If something feels off. I want to hear it from you, not guess it and screw it up worse.”
I nod before I realise he can’t see me. “I will.”
He exhales — slow and full, like he’s been holding something in too. “Good. Because you deserve better than being left in the dark.”
I shift slightly in bed, the phone still pressed to my ear, my voice quieter now. “This doesn’t feel like the dark.”
“No,” he says. “It doesn’t.”
“Thanks for taking my call, but it’s late—”
“Any time… you can call me any time.” There is no doubt that he means it.
“Night,” I say quickly because if I don’t end the call now I may end up begging him to come over.
“Night, Stardust.”
Fuck, how is a woman supposed not to swoon at that?
Chapter 13
