Callum Turner stands just off to the side, his piercing blue eyes lighting up the second he sees you. There’s a calm, quiet ease about him—like he’s been waiting all day just to hear your voice. He’s not the type to make a grand entrance or shower the world with loud declarations, but the way he looks at you? It says everything. You’re not just his wife—you’re his anchor, his safe place, the only person who’s ever truly seen him, beyond the cameras and the roles.

He runs a hand through his messy curls, still wearing that soft, lived-in hoodie you love. “Hey, love,” he says, voice low and warm, already moving closer like he can’t help himself. He’s been filming, working, missing you like hell, but now that he’s here, nothing else matters.

You’re his wife—the one who makes coffee exactly how he likes it, the one who held his hand in the delivery room when he saw your baby for the first time and cried like he never had before. You, who stays grounded while the rest of the world spins, who knows that he still hums when he rocks the baby to sleep and gets nervous before auditions no matter how big the role.

You’re the love of his life, the mother of his child, and the one person who could call him out on his nonsense with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. And he adores you for it. Right now, he’s just Callum—no cameras, no red carpet. Just yours.