Love Rents A Room
Chapter 207: A Decision Made With Love

Chapter 207: A Decision Made With Love

Jeffrey leaned in, brushing a finger over her now-dry curls. "They’ll be beautiful, whatever they look like. You know that, right?"

Joanne looked up at him, into those eyes that were too full of love, too real.

And for the first time in days, she didn’t feel broken. Or overwhelmed. She just felt... held. This was all she wanted. This was all she needed for the rest of her life. Just him and her. Together.

"Yeah," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I think I do."

Jeffrey was not finished, not yet. He had to brush her hair, too.

"Ginger daughters are fine?" Jeffrey asked, quirking an eyebrow as he gently clipped her hair up.

Joanne smirked. "Of course. Little redheaded girls are adorable."

Jeffrey gave a slow, theatrical blink. "But the boys get excluded from paradise?"

She shrugged, clearly enjoying his dramatic reaction. "Ginger boys either grow into villains in movies or end up as comic relief. It’s practically a cinematic law."

Jeffrey narrowed his eyes, mock-offended. Her ex had been blonde. And she had bleached her own hair for years. It was beginning to form a pattern. A slightly painful one. Bitterness of jealousy rose from the bottom of his heart.

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Why did you bleach your hair in college?"

The question caught her off-guard. Her shoulders stiffened ever so slightly, and her eyes dropped to the floor for a long breath. He saw the hesitation in the way she laced her fingers together.

"You know it was tough for me to pay for Harvard," she said, voice quiet now, stripped of its usual bite. "Even the scholarship didn’t cover everything. I had to hustle... ask for help wherever I could."

She paused. The next words were heavier.

"My red hair... I loved it. It runs in my family, and in Rockchapel, it felt like something sacred, an inheritance. But when I left there... I wasn’t ready for how differently people would look at me. How they would... see me."

She didn’t need to explain more. Jeffrey understood immediately. The world had oversexualized her because of something as intrinsic and innocent as her hair color. And she had been alone, young, desperate, and beautiful in a world where beauty was treated like currency.

"So I bleached it," she said. "I didn’t want that kind of attention. Not when I needed help. It made it easier... to be invisible."

The brush in his hand slowed. Guilt pooled in his gut. She had endured all of that silently and it had turned her strong. But five years back, he had kept his distance, influenced by his mother’s careless cruelty, dismissing her as someone fake just because of her hair color.

He remembered how she kept everyone at arm’s length at Shamrock Logistics. The sharpness, the guarded expression. Now it made sense. The world had earned her armor.

"Jonathan Meyers was the exception," she continued, gaze still lowered. "He didn’t even accept my request for a loan. Said he’d cover the rest of my tuition as a part of a scholarship fund he maintained. He did that every year for students who needed it."

Jeffrey swallowed his discomfort. Jonathan’s name still tasted bitter, but at least in that regard, he had done something right. Still, a deeper question nagged at him.

"Why didn’t you ask Grandpa?" he asked. "Philip would’ve helped you without even blinking."

Joanne looked up at him then, the smallest, saddest smile on her lips.

"I just didn’t," she said. "I didn’t know why back then. Now I do."

She smiled more fully. This one was lighter, freer. "I wasn’t willing to give up my pride."

Of course she hadn’t been. Even when it would’ve made her life easier. Especially because it would’ve made her life easier. She had wanted to stand beside him on her own terms, with no debts, no crutches. Even then, everything she did was quietly tied to him.

Jeffrey pressed a kiss to her forehead.

This woman—this fierce, loyal, stubborn woman—had loved him since she was twelve. Had carried that love alone, buried under all her pride, and pain, and fear.

"But why blonde?" he asked again, this time more softly. "Wouldn’t a brunette have been easier? Less attention?"

Joanne looked at him, mischief dancing in her tired green eyes.

"You have to believe me when I say this," she said.

He nodded, already leaning in. She was always more beautiful when she was being bold.

"I looked too good as a brunette. With my pale skin and green eyes, I looked exotic. Even I couldn’t take my eyes off myself," she said, her tone dry and unrepentant. "It would’ve been more dangerous."

Jeffrey stared at her. He didn’t even blink.

She expected him to laugh. To roll his eyes or tease her thinking she was lying. But he didn’t.

"Well," he murmured, "that’s true."

He meant it. God, he meant every word. With dark hair, her eyes would’ve stood out even more. Her skin would’ve glowed like porcelain. Now, he found himself wanting to see her like that, even just once.

Joanne didn’t speak, but he caught the way her lips twitched at his reply.

And in that moment, her hair falling over her shoulder, her body wrapped in a towel, the air thick with the scent of food and old memories, they sat in a quiet closeness neither of them dared to name yet. But it was there.

Undeniable.

Joanne smiled and looked at him. Jeffrey could see the love in her eyes. Her gaze wasn’t distant anymore, no longer heavy with uncertainty. There was a lightness to it now, a softness that made something in his chest unfurl. Relief washed over him. He wanted to hold her closer, to press her into his heart and never risk losing her again.

"It’s fine if our daughters are redheads," she said, voice light, teasing, "because no one would dare to look at a Winchester princess the wrong way."

"Winchester?" Jeffrey blinked. "We are naming them Winchester?"

She wants their children to carry the Winchester name?

"Yeah, obviously. Shouldn’t they be named after their father?" she said, and when she saw the flicker of surprise in his expression, she blinked and then continued in a playful tone seeing his confused face. "Did you think I’d skip on naming my children after one of the most influential families in the world? What kind of gold digger am I? Why would I pass on the chance to be called Mrs. Joanne Winchester?"

Her tone was playful, full of mischief, but it didn’t hide the truth behind her words. She had made a decision and she had made it with love.