75. Chapter 75
seventy-five
S he’d slept like a baby, which perturbed her even more as she stood under the shower, rinsing away the lingering tiredness. If it hadn’t been for Chloé’s alarm, they would’ve slept straight through. Poppy had been right—they were utterly exhausted.
By the time Monroe was dressed and had come downstairs, Chloé had already organised everything.
Their bags were unpacked, and then a small bag repacked for tonight.
She’d made a note of things they might need—milk, food, a few essentials—and reminded Monroe to adjust the heating so the place would be warm if they needed to come back again soon.
“You’ve been busy,” Monroe said, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“Just being useful.” Chloé leant in and kissed her cheek. “I know your mind’s full right now.”
Monroe rested back against the counter, watching as Chloé rinsed a mug and set it on the drainer. The domesticity of it, the ease, made her throat catch.
“I don’t think I’ve said thank you properly,” she said softly.
Chloé glanced over. “You don’t have to.”
“I do.” Monroe’s voice was steadier now. “You dropped everything: work, your life, your routine...just to be here. For me. For them.”
Chloé dried her hands and crossed the kitchen. “Of course I did.”
Monroe looked up at her, her eyes slightly misty. “You’ve got so much going on, and yet, you didn’t even hesitate. I don’t know how I’d be doing any of this without you.”
Chloé reached for her hand. “You don’t have to do it without me. That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”
Monroe nodded, her fingers tightening around Chloé’s. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”
“You let me in. That was all I ever needed.” Chloé smiled gently.
As Chloé leant in and kissed her cheek, Monroe closed her eyes for a second, letting the warmth settle.
Just a few weeks ago, she’d been questioning everything—whether this relationship could work, whether they were too different, whether love was enough when the daily grind chipped away at connection.
And now here they were.
Not just surviving chaos together, but finding their rhythm in the middle of it.
Chloé hadn’t flinched when everything fell apart.
She didn’t ask for a pause or a delay—she just showed up: steady, present, quietly making things easier without demanding credit.
And somehow, in the midst of hospital corridors, ferry crossings, and half-slept hours in a car, Monroe had started to see what real partnership with Chloé looked like.
It wasn’t about grand gestures. It was about standing still beside someone in the worst moments…and staying. And Chloé had stayed. Was still staying.
Maybe this was what building something lasting really looked like.
Not perfect. But real.
And suddenly, that felt like everything.
“Are you ready to go to the children?” Chloé asked, snapping Monroe from her thoughts. “I thought maybe we can order in?”
“Yes,” Monroe smiled, “that sounds like the perfect plan.”
“Okay, then let’s go and make ourselves useful.”