Bloomington

Quiet Before the Noise

The wind had picked up overnight.

It rattled the old porch railings and stirred pine needles across the deck, but inside the cabin, everything was still. Jackie lay awake in the predawn hush, the pale blue light of morning slipping through the windowpanes and tracing the curve of Catherine's back beside her.

Her fiancée.

It still made her chest flutter every time she thought it. Catherine was curled toward the edge of the bed, blankets tangled around her waist, hair spread across the pillow like dark ink. Jackie reached out gently, brushing her fingertips over the dip of her spine.

She wanted to freeze time.

But it was their last morning here, and the outside world was already knocking.

Catherine's Secret

Catherine sat at the small kitchen table with her laptop open and a mug of lukewarm coffee in hand. Jackie was still in the shower, humming something off-key. She smiled faintly, stealing these last few minutes of solitude.

The tab was open.

A confirmation page for a 2.01ct Asscher cut blue diamond in a bezel setting, accented by a flurry of diamond clusters that made the stone look like it had fallen from the sky.

It was exactly Jackie.

Bold but grounded. Rare but real. And deeply, unapologetically beautiful.

Catherine had hesitated for days, torn between designs—but when she saw this one, she knew. Her cursor hovered over the engraving field. She typed the words slowly, with care:

Only you.

She clicked confirm.

The screen blinked; her order was submitted.

Her chest ached with quiet excitement, her throat tight. Jackie would never see it coming.

Packing and Pause

They packed slowly, folding clothes in a gentle rhythm. Jackie tucked a worn hoodie into the bottom of the bag, watching Catherine stare out the window.

JACKIE
You okay?

CATHERINE
Just trying to hold on to this a little longer.

Jackie moved behind her, arms circling her waist. Her lips brushed the top of Catherine's shoulder.

JACKIE
We'll come back. Maybe make it our spot.

Catherine smiled, leaning back into her.

CATHERINE
We might need a better mattress if we're making this a tradition. My back's still recovering from how enthusiastic you were last night.

JACKIE
Enthusiastic?

CATHERINE
Mmhm. Maybe I'll return the favor later.

Jackie blushed. "That's a promise?"

CATHERINE
A threat.

The Wade Call

Later that afternoon, back in town, Jackie stood outside their house and finally powered on her phone.

Three missed calls from Wade. One from her publicist. Dozens of social media mentions. Her name is trending—not for a role or project, but for the glint of a ring spotted in a grainy parking lot photo.

Catherine was inside, unpacking. Jackie stared at the screen for a long moment before finally calling.

WADE (on the line)
Jackie. Finally.

JACKIE
I know. You said it's TMZ?

WADE
TMZ, Instagram blind accounts, even DeuxMoi. They're running with the photo. It's not official yet, but they're circling hard.

JACKIE
What do you need from me?

WADE
Control. We either confirm or they turn it into a circus. We've got 48 hours to spin it ourselves or get trampled.

Jackie looked through the front window and saw Catherine sitting on the couch, barefoot, calm.

JACKIE
I'll send a statement. But I'm not naming names. Not yet. Catherine deserves space while she figures out what's next.

WADE
Copy. Clean, dignified, vague?

JACKIE
Exactly.

The Statement

Jackie drafted it that evening, sitting cross-legged on the couch, laptop open on her knees. Catherine sat nearby, reading, pretending not to peek every thirty seconds.

"I'm in a committed relationship with someone who brings me joy, balance, and strength. I'm proud of that love. My personal life will remain personal, but I won't hide my happiness. I hope the world can respect that."

She clicked send.

Catherine looked up.

CATHERINE
You sure?

JACKIE
I'm not ashamed of you. And I won't let the world treat us like a scandal.

Catherine smiled softly.

CATHERINE
Then I guess it's my turn to show you just how proud I am of you.

Bedroom – That Night

The room was quiet. Cool. Dimly lit. Jackie stood by the window in a soft cotton tank and underwear, brushing her damp hair back as she watched the city lights flicker outside.

She didn't hear Catherine approach—just felt her.

Arms snaked around her from behind. Hands dragged down over her stomach, then back up to cup her breasts through the thin fabric. Jackie gasped.

CATHERINE
You've done enough thinking today. Let me take over.

Jackie's body pressed back against her instinctively.

JACKIE
I'm listening.

Catherine's lips brushed the shell of her ear.

CATHERINE
Get on the bed. Face down.

Jackie obeyed without hesitation.

Catherine climbed over her, straddling her hips, hands sliding under her tank to slowly push it up. She kissed every inch of exposed skin—her spine, her shoulder blades, the curve of her waist—until Jackie squirmed beneath her, moaning softly.

CATHERINE
Stay still.

She pulled Jackie's underwear down, revealing her completely, then leaned down to nip at her inner thigh. Her hand slid up—slow, teasing, deliberate.

CATHERINE
So ready for me.

Jackie whimpered as Catherine's fingers slipped inside her, slow at first, then firm, coaxing. Catherine's other hand gripped Jackie's hip, grounding her.

When Jackie began to pant, Catherine leaned down, her lips at her ear.

CATHERINE
You don't come until I say.

Jackie moaned in frustration, her back arching. Catherine chuckled softly, low and dangerous.

CATHERINE
Patience.

She dragged her tongue along Jackie's spine, her fingers working in tight, rhythmic strokes. When Jackie started trembling, breath ragged, Catherine pressed deeper and whispered:

CATHERINE
Now.

Jackie shattered, crying out into the pillow, hips bucking against Catherine's hand. Catherine didn't stop—riding it out with her, watching every flicker of pleasure cross her face.

After, she kissed her shoulder, then her cheek, then her lips.

CATHERINE
That's how you say "I'm proud of you."

Jackie, breathless and blissed out, just nodded.