Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
One month later…
The light filtered in through the freshly cleaned windows of Amelia’s newly renovated property, casting the most beautiful patterns across the herringbone floors.
Jo adjusted her lens and crouched for the next angle, the sharp click of the shutter punctuating the otherwise easy silence that hung between them.
Well, almost silence.
“You know, if you shoot from a lower angle, it makes the ceilings look higher,” Amelia said from somewhere behind her. “Just a thought.”
Jo glanced over her shoulder with a smile. “Are you critiquing the professional?”
Amelia leaned against the open doorframe, her arms crossed casually, looking like every woman Jo had ever wanted. “I’m just saying that I’ve spent months on those beams. I want them to look like the architectural miracle that they are.”
Jo stood slowly, stretching her arms over her head as she turned to face Amelia. “You look like an architectural miracle.”
Amelia rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh, here we go.”
“You love it.”
“Tragically, I do.”
Jo grinned and stepped closer, her camera hanging from her neck.
Even now, after weeks of calling this woman hers, she couldn’t help staring just a little longer than necessary.
It didn’t matter what Amelia wore—today it was dark jeans and a tucked-in white shirt, effortlessly elegant—she still had Jo’s heart racing.
But it wasn’t her clothes that drew Jo in.
It was just the way she was. Steady, playful, luminous in her quiet strength.
She made the world feel less like a battlefield and more like a home.
“You’re doing it again,” Amelia said, reaching out and smoothing a thumb against Jo’s cheek.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like I invented oxygen.”
“I don’t know about you inventing it…” Jo smirked. “But you certainly know how to take it from a room with a single look.”
Jo leaned into Amelia’s touch for a moment. Just…a second, because the warmth of it would undo her otherwise.
“I was thinking,” Jo said as she stepped back. “We should have Ada and Evie over this weekend. I’ve barely seen Ada since we stopped going to Satin.”
“I’d love that. Let’s do wine and nibbles at mine on Saturday?”
Jo nodded. “Perfect. You still up for cooking dinner tonight?”
Amelia slid her hands into her pockets. “Absolutely, but only if you help me choose. I’m thinking aubergine parmigiana or that Thai green curry you’ve made me addicted to.”
“You’re not still dreaming about that, are you?”
“Every night.”
Jo grinned and lifted her camera back to her face, snapping a quick, unposed photo of Amelia. Half-laughing, those gorgeous eyes on Jo, her hair tucked behind one ear.
“I hope you’re not filling the website gallery with pictures of me again.”
Jo shrugged. “Too late.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m in love,” Jo said as she fanned herself and sighed. “Nothing you can do about it.”
They spent the next hour moving through the house while Jo snapped final shots of the lounge, the terrace, and the bespoke kitchen Amelia had poured her heart into. They talked the way they often did now…seamlessly and effortlessly, kind of like time had rewired itself to give them more of it.
More space to be together. To breathe together.
Between frames, they discussed when to restock the wine rack. Then whether Ada would bring her new date to dinner in a couple of weeks. And then the most important question…whether Jo should finally update her photography website bio to say she was taken.
They were rarely apart now unless work demanded it, and even then, Jo’s phone would buzz with a message. Usually something along the lines of…
Miss you already.
Come home soon.
Wearing nothing but your hoodie, FYI.
It was normal, it was all-consuming, and it was theirs.
As Jo packed up her camera gear, she looked around at the space Amelia had built from the rubble up. It was a wreck turned into a dream home. The kind of thing that mirrored the woman who’d created it herself. Quiet resilience in every corner.
Amelia crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Jo from behind, resting her chin on her shoulder. “All done?”
Jo leaned back into her. “All done.”
“Good. Then I vote we stop by the supermarket on the way back and pick up some ingredients. That curry isn’t going to make itself.”
Jo turned in her arms and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“And you’re the love of my life.”
Jo’s breath caught at that, because it was true. She felt it in every bone, every breath…every gentle silence between them.
Amelia’s stomach grumbled as she inhaled the scent of the Thai green curry wafting around the place.
They’d set the table the way they always did, lazily and together, with the dishes close enough to share and their chairs positioned so their legs tangled beneath the surface.
Amelia watched as Jo ladled steaming curry over a bed of rice, her brow furrowed in concentration as though getting it right was the most important thing in the world.
Like everything she did for Amelia had to be perfect.
God, I adore her.
“Yours looks better than mine,” Jo said, nudging Amelia’s bowl gently across the table.
“I watched you plate up both.” Amelia laughed as she pulled her chair in. “They’re identical.”
“Mine has more coriander. I think I’ve sabotaged myself.”
Amelia smiled, her heart full to the brim, and took her first bite. “Oh, my God. You’ve outdone yourself this time, baby.”
Jo beamed at the compliment and swallowed a mouthful. “You have your talents, and I have mine.”
Amelia watched Jo quietly. She wasn’t sure when it had started feeling like this, easy and unforced, but now it was second nature.
The glances across the table, the laughter, the unspoken threads that seemed to tie everything together.
Life was no longer messy. It was beautiful, and it was Amelia’s for the taking.
Halfway through her bowl, Jo set down her fork and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Have you heard anything?”
Amelia looked up. “From Callum?”
Jo gave a small nod.
“No. You?”
“Nothing.”
Amelia shrugged. “He’ll be licking his wounds somewhere, trying to make sense of the world now that he isn’t the centre of it.”
Jo arched a brow. “You’re not worried?”
“I know my son.” Amelia set her fork down and reached for her sparkling water. “He processes things slowly. He pushes the world away until he can make peace with what he can’t change. And he can’t change this.”
Jo reached across the table and laced their fingers together. “No, he can’t.”
The quiet settled over them, allowing them a moment or two to take stock of the day.
Another property complete, more images added to Jo’s website and portfolio, and now dinner with the woman she loved.
“Thank you.” Amelia gave Jo’s hand a squeeze.
“For being so…good to me. When everything came out, you could have washed your hands of me and walked away. You should have, really…”
“Hey.” Jo gave her a look. “Don’t you dare thank me for loving you.”
Amelia’s lips parted at those words.
Jo smiled. “You gave me something I didn’t think I’d ever have again. Not really. Not after Callum.”
Amelia searched Jo’s eyes.
“I know it was over long before you and I got together, and I know I was doing so much better, but I think parts of the wreckage remained. You know?” Jo grazed her thumb over Amelia’s knuckles.
“I didn’t realise how much of myself I’d buried just trying to feel okay again.
You…” She exhaled. “You pulled me out of that. Not by fixing anything, just…by loving me like there was nothing broken.”
Amelia’s throat tightened. “I don’t see broken when I look at you, baby.”
“I know,” she whispered. “And that means everything to me.”
Amelia felt the weight of Jo’s words settle deep inside of her. Not in a heavy way, but in the kind of way that rewrote and softened something. She let the moment stretch and settle between them, one of those quiet lulls that felt like its own kind of intimacy.
“You’re my entire world, Amelia.”
Jo gave her hand another small squeeze, then picked her fork back up and finished eating.
Did she realise the severity of her words or her love?
Did she understand just what she meant to Amelia?
Jo simply smiled back at her as though she hadn’t just shifted something seismic inside Amelia with a single sentence.
“I didn’t think I’d ever have this either,” Amelia said, picking her own cutlery back up. “Not again. Not after…everything.”
Jo didn’t press. She just nodded and kept eating. She already knew what Amelia meant.
“I thought I’d be on my own,” Amelia continued. “Too much baggage. Too many ghosts. But you just…” She trailed off and smiled to herself. “You’ve never once looked at me like I’m too much.”
“You could never be too much. You just needed the right person to sit with you through the hard stuff.”
A surge of emotion hit Amelia full force. She reached for her napkin and dabbed at her eyes before the tears could spill out. “You’re so perfect.”
“Honestly…” Jo grinned. “It’s exhausting being this perfect.”
Amelia laughed as she pushed her bowl aside. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Jo stood, circled the table, and bent down to press a kiss to Amelia’s hair. “Come on. I’m craving something sweet, and it’s not in the fridge.”
Amelia tilted her head back and looked up at her. “Oh? What are you craving then?”
Jo smirked. “You.”
“Well.” Amelia was guided to her feet. “Aren’t you in quite the mood tonight?”
“I’ve had excellent food with the woman I love…and compliments. There’s nothing down for you now. You’re in trouble.”
They left the dishes where they were and moved into the living room, the lights dim and the evening mellow. Amelia curled up against Jo the moment they landed on the couch, one arm looped loosely around her waist, her head on Jo’s shoulder.
“This,” Jo whispered, her chin resting on Amelia’s head, “is the best part of the day.”
“Mm.” Amelia closed her eyes and breathed it all in. The pain was gone, happiness had planted itself firmly inside of her, and Amelia couldn’t wait for whatever came next. “It is.”