Chapter 28
Wyatt
I wake up to an empty bed and the sound of Snow humming in the kitchen. I smile before I even open my eyes — she only hums when she's happy, a soft, unconscious melody that means her mind is at peace.
I find her at the stove, making pancakes, wearing one of my t-shirts and her pajama shorts.
Her hair is piled in a messy knot on top of her head, and she's completely relaxed in a way that still takes my breath away.
But it's more than that today — there's a lightness to her movements, an ease that wasn't there before.
"Morning," I say, wrapping my arms around her waist from behind.
She leans back into me. "Morning. Hungry?"
"Starving."
We fall into our comfortable routine — her cooking, me setting the table, easy conversation about our day. Normal, domestic, perfect.
Halfway through breakfast, her phone buzzes. She glances at it, rolls her eyes, and sets it face down.
"Nico?" I ask.
"Forwarding me some article about Preston launching an eco-business." She takes a bite of pancake. "Court date's in two weeks. He's just trying to rattle me."
I wait for the tension, the anxiety. But she just reaches for the maple syrup, completely unbothered.
"And?" I prompt.
"And I'm not wasting headspace on it." She meets my eyes, calm and certain. "He can do whatever he wants. It doesn't change anything."
The certainty in her voice makes my chest tight with pride. A few months ago, anything Preston-related would have sent her spiraling. Now she's just... handling it.
"I'm proud of you," I say.
She smiles and stands, moving around the table to sit in my lap. "I love you."
"I love you too. So damn much."
She kisses me softly, and just like that, Preston is forgotten because he simply doesn't matter anymore.
Later that afternoon, I'm with Derek when my phone rings. Leo's name flashes on the screen.
I stare at it, surprised. Leo hasn't called since the gallery show — since I stood on that platform and publicly announced I was leaving modeling behind.
Not long before that, he'd called with what he said was the opportunity of a lifetime: fifty thousand dollars for a weekend shoot in Miami with a major brand.
But it conflicted with plans I had with Snow. I'd turned it down without hesitation.
Snow had been horrified when I told her. She'd tried to convince me to take it, saying she could wait. But I'd brushed it off — it simply wasn't important to me anymore. Spending time with her was worth more than any paycheck.
Leo had been furious. Told me I was throwing away my career. Said the brand would never call twice. His exact words were "Don't call me when you're broke and begging for work. We are done."
I haven't heard from him since. Until now.
I almost don't answer. But curiosity gets the better of me.
"Leo."
"Wyatt." His voice is different — not the aggressive sales pitch I'm used to, but something more measured. "I need you to listen for five minutes."
"I'm listening."
"That brand. The one you turned down."
My stomach tightens. "What about it?"
"They're back with more money on the table."
I close my eyes, already knowing my answer. "Leo—"
"Just listen. Two-year exclusive contract. Half a million dollars. Security for life."
The number hangs in the air between us. A few months ago, it might have tempted me. But now the choice is crystal clear. It means absolutely nothing.
"No," I say when he's finished.
"Wyatt, this is—"
"I know what it is, Leo. And the answer is still no."
"At least think about it. Sleep on it. This offer won't last forever."
"I don't need to sleep on it. I'm not doing it."
There's a long pause. Then: "Is it that woman?"
"Her name is Snow. And no, it's not about her. This is me choosing what is best for me."
"You're making a mistake." Leo's voice hardens. "A huge mistake. And when you come crawling back in six months, don't expect me to answer the phone. We're done, Wyatt."
Something clicks in my head. "You said that last time."
"What?"
"You said we're done last time you called about this. You also said the brand would never call twice. But here we are." I keep my voice calm. "So which is it, Leo? Are we done, or are you going to call me again in a few months with another offer?"
Silence. Then: "I never said that. Don't be so dramatic."
The gaslighting is so blatant it's almost funny. "Yeah, you did."
"You're misremembering—"
I hang up before he can finish the lie.
Derek, who's been pretending not to listen, gives me a sympathetic look. "Big offer?"
"Huge."
"You turned it down?"
I nod.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." And the surprising thing is, I am. "I'm exactly where I want to be."
Derek nods, going back to sanding the display panel we're building for my next gallery show. After a moment, he says, "You know, Leo was good for us back in the day."
"Yeah, he was," I agree. "Got us our first big bookings. Taught us how the business worked."
"But those days are behind us now." Derek looks up with a grin. "Look at us. All grown up."
I laugh. "Running our own businesses. Making our own choices."
"Being boring and responsible."
"Speak for yourself. I'm very exciting."
"You're building a display panel right now."
"An extremely display panel," I correct him.
Derek laughs, and we get back to work. The call from Leo already forgotten.