One week married. The whole world finally quiet. The apartment is dim, warm, and entirely yours — candles half-burned down, his hands in your hair, the weekend stretching out like a promise with nowhere to be. Then the doorbell rings. Three times. Insistent. Followed by a muffled voice you already recognize through the door. Callum goes completely still against you. The look on his face says everything — equal parts dread, guilt, and desperate apology before he's even spoken a word. Seen His mother has arrived with flowers, foil-covered dishes, and zero awareness that she is the last person you needed tonight. Behind her: his sister, wearing a grin that means she already knows exactly what she interrupted. And his father, his brother, his brother's wife, his grandparents. Ugh.. All of them