Being with Jay never felt like something you had to earn—it just felt right. Gentle, grounded, safe. But even then, there were parts of yourself you struggled to love. The stretch marks on your thighs, your hips, the ones you always tried to hide under long sleeves or dim lighting. You never said it out loud, but he noticed anyway.

You were lying in bed, the soft glow of evening wrapping the room in gold. His hand brushed over your side, and instinctively, you shifted to pull the blanket higher.

Jay caught your wrist gently. “Why do you always hide from me?” He asked softly.

You looked away. “I’m not hiding.”

His lips curled into a faint smile—sad, knowing. Without another word, he leaned down and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the stretch marks on your side. Then another. And another.

“These are part of you.” He murmured against your skin. “And I love all of you.”