Chapter 4: Moving In, Moving On

The next day, Savannah had her assistant move her things in—she was moving in with me.

Boxes piled up in the living room, and her clothes took over half my closet. It happened so fast, I barely had time to protest.

"Isn’t this a little fast?"

I tried to sound casual, but my heart was pounding.

Savannah scrolled through videos, then snorted: "Baby, you didn’t seem to want to take things slow last night."

She winked, making me blush. I threw a pillow at her.

She yanked me into her arms, biting out: "What, getting tired of me already?"

Her grip was possessive, but gentle. I melted into her embrace.

"Of course not."

She grinned, satisfied. "That’s what I thought."

"I knew it—my Autumn isn’t the type to play around."

When she said "player," she emphasized it. I realized something was off and turned my head. She was frowning.

Her expression was serious, almost hurt. I reached out to touch her hand.

"What are you looking at?"

I peeked over.

She was watching a super-sweet compilation of me and Caleb. The next video was us smiling at each other at the gala. The comments were full of people shipping us.

I cringed, wishing I could delete the internet.

Awkward.

I tried to laugh it off, but Savannah just glared at me.

"Autumn Carter," Savannah put down her phone and buried her head in my neck, "you seemed pretty happy with Caleb that day."

Her voice was muffled, but I could hear the jealousy. I hugged her tighter.

She called me by my full name—cold as ice. Clearly planning to settle scores. I shrank back, nervous.

Whenever she used my full name, I knew I was in trouble.

"And you could hear my thoughts, but when I was sad, you didn’t care? Autumn, you laughed like it was nothing."

She bit my lip.

I gasped, surprised by the sudden sting. She wasn’t letting me off easy.

"No, let me explain."

I tried to pull away, but she held me close.

Savannah pulled back, her eyes narrowing with a sly smile: "Go ahead, let’s hear your excuse."

She raised an eyebrow, daring me to speak. I hesitated, searching for the right words.

She was good with words.

I knew I couldn’t out-argue her. Still, I had to try.

But suddenly, I remembered something.

I sat up, realization dawning. "I don’t seem to be hearing your thoughts anymore."

We locked eyes. I pushed on: "Actually, you knew I could hear you, right? So all those thoughts were for me to hear?"

She looked away, blushing. "Maybe."

"But Autumn is so stubborn—she obviously liked me but wouldn’t comfort me."

Her tone turned cold: "But my jealousy and heartbreak weren’t an act."

She kissed me hard, her hands rougher than before.

I melted under her touch, forgetting everything else.

Only when I cried and begged for mercy did she finally answer my earlier question: "It’s fine if you can’t hear my thoughts. Whatever you want to hear, I’ll say it out loud for you."

Her words were a promise. I knew she meant it.

Three months into our relationship, the paparazzi caught us kissing.

We were leaving a restaurant, thinking we’d slipped away unnoticed. Turns out, someone had snapped a photo from across the street. The next morning, it was everywhere.

The whole internet freaked out:

[When did they get together?!]

[I knew something was up with them.]

[Top stars in love—who can relate?]

[They’re both women, but I’m shipping them anyway.]

[My WLW heart is screaming!]

[Remember the last couple? Best Actress Autumn and Lila—they’re still going strong!]

[Girls loving girls is the best—so sweet!]

[Agreed!]

The comments were a mix of shock, support, and memes. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I weakly protested: [It’s just two girls kissing, what’s the big deal?]

I posted it on my story, hoping to downplay the drama.

[Hey, Autumn’s here!]

[Is that a denial? Why does it sound so weak?]

[Maybe it’s just a rumor. I kiss my bestie sometimes—doesn’t mean anything.]

[True, what’s wrong with pretty girls being close?]

[...]

The hype died down pretty quickly.

People moved on to the next scandal within a week. Hollywood attention spans are short.

But Savannah was mad.

She pouted for days, refusing to let it go.

"We’re openly dating, and you still won’t make it official. Autumn, don’t tell me you’re not a player—you don’t love me! If you won’t admit it, I can’t even call you my wife in public. So any pretty girl can get close to you, huh?"

She flopped onto the bed, devastated.

She buried her face in a pillow, refusing to talk to me. I tried everything—flowers, chocolate, even singing her favorite song. Nothing worked.

It took me three days to calm her down.

I finally bribed her with takeout from her favorite sushi place. She forgave me after the second California roll.

Four months and five days in, she went on a talk show and, thanks to my loose tongue, let everything slip.

It was one of those live segments with a "truth or dare" game. I dared her to call the first person in her contacts. She did—and the rest is history.

Now the whole internet knew we were together.

Clips of the call went viral. People started shipping us even harder.

Savannah saw I was upset and apologized right away: "Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to."

She hugged me tight, whispering apologies into my hair.

"They said to call the first person in my contacts, so I had to call you. Who knew..."

She looked genuinely sorry. I couldn’t stay mad.

Who knew my first words would be to call her "wife" and ask when she’d be home, even saying I was waiting for her in bed... Super flirty.

The hosts laughed, the audience cheered, and I wanted to disappear. Savannah just grinned, proud of herself.

Thinking about it made me want to hide my face. If Savannah hadn’t hung up in time, who knows what else I would’ve blurted out. The whole country was watching!

I spent the next day dodging calls from my agent, my mom, and half my friends. It was chaos.

Now, tons of people were commenting under my Instagram:

[It’s just two girls kissing, what’s the big deal?]

[Girls calling each other wife, so what?]

[Girls cuddling and sleeping together, so what?]

[Autumn says they’re not that kind of relationship, but calls her wife in private—treating us like outsiders.]

[Hahaha, Autumn, you have no shame!]

Boohoo.

I really have no shame left.

I collapsed into Savannah’s arms: "Comfort me."

She stroked my hair, kissing my forehead. "You’re adorable, you know that?"

She doted on me, wiping my tears and kissing the corner of my mouth.

Her touch was gentle, soothing away my embarrassment.

"Don’t be sad, baby. It’s fine—no one remembers anything online for long. If anyone makes fun of you, I’ll use my alt accounts to argue back. I’ve got plenty of those."

I looked up to see her stifling a laugh. I glared: "You better not laugh!"

She tried to keep a straight face, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

These days, people are pretty accepting. When we went public, most folks were supportive. There’d already been a high-profile couple like us, and more people were proudly owning who they are.

The entertainment world had changed. Our relationship became another step forward for visibility. I was proud of us—and of everyone who supported us.

Love knows no boundaries.

That was the lesson I’d learned. Real love doesn’t care about gender or fame. It just is.

Because of that, we felt perfectly normal.

We became just another Hollywood couple—quirky, dramatic, and a little bit extra.

My cousin Lillian Carter and Lila Brooks had been together for five years. They had an adorable dog named Biscuit. Biscuit even had puppies this year. When I took Savannah to see them, the puppies were playing in the house, one even licking my hand. Just as cute and gentle as Biscuit.

We spent the afternoon chasing puppies around the backyard, laughing until our sides hurt. Savannah took a million photos, promising to print them for our fridge.

Puppies are adorable.

They made everything feel lighter. I started thinking about building a life with Savannah—pets, family, maybe even a house in the hills.

So I asked Savannah if we could get a cat.

She didn’t even hesitate. "Absolutely."

She patted my head. "Sure."

The next weekend, we went to a local shelter and adopted a Chinchilla cat with bright green eyes. It was so pretty we named it Sprite.

Sprite was timid at first, hiding in her bed and watching us, meowing softly. But once she got used to us, she’d curl up in our laps and refuse to leave, even climbing into bed to sleep with us.

She became the queen of the apartment, ruling over us with her tiny pink nose and soft purrs. Savannah spoiled her rotten.

When we weren’t home, she’d hide in a corner and nap. Every time we came back, we had to search for her. But seeing her sleepy eyes and tiny pink paws reaching for cuddles melted our hearts. Next time, we’d make a game of it again.

It became a little ritual—whoever found Sprite first got to pick the movie for date night.

Later, Savannah bought her a little bell for her collar, so she was easier to find when she hid.

Now, whenever we walked through the door, we’d hear the soft jingle and know Sprite was coming to greet us.