Five years || Timothée Chalamet

The peace they had found was short-lived. A few weeks after their day at the cove, the media's obsession with Timothée's personal life reignited with a vengeance. Photos of the three of them at the beach began circulating online, sparking wild speculation. Headlines screamed, "Timothée Chalamet's Secret Family?!" and social media buzzed with theories about his relationship with Rhia and Dahlia.

The quiet life Rhia had worked so hard to build for her daughter was slipping through her fingers, and it left her feeling helpless and angry.

One afternoon, after picking Dahlia up from school, Rhia found a photographer lingering near her driveway. Her blood boiled as she pulled Dahlia close, shielding her from the camera flash.

That evening, after Dahlia had gone to bed, Rhia confronted Timothée in the living room. He was seated on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a furrowed brow.

"Timothée," she said, her voice tight.

He looked up, sensing the storm in her tone. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" she echoed, her voice rising. "What's wrong is that I can't even pick my daughter up from school without someone shoving a camera in my face!"

Timothée stood, guilt flashing across his face. "Rhia, I'm sorry. I didn't think it would get this bad."

"Of course, you didn't!" she snapped. "Because this is normal for you, isn't it? You've lived with cameras following you for years. But I didn't sign up for this, and neither did Dahlia."

He reached out to her, but she stepped back, her arms crossed protectively. "I don't want her growing up like this, Timothée. I don't want her life plastered across tabloids."

"I don't want that for her either," he said earnestly. "I swear, Rhia, I'm doing everything I can to keep this under control."

"Are you?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Because it doesn't feel like enough."

Timothée hesitated, then said, "Let's get away. Just for a while. Somewhere quiet, where they can't find us."

She stared at him, skeptical. "And then what? We come back, and it starts all over again?"

"No," he said firmly. "We'll figure out a long-term solution. But right now, you and Dahlia need a break from this. Let me do this for you—for both of you."

A week later, they packed their bags and headed to a secluded cabin in the French countryside. The place was surrounded by lush greenery, with no neighbors in sight and no cell service—a stark contrast to their usual lives.

The first few days were blissfully quiet. Dahlia played in the garden, chasing butterflies and giggling as she explored the unfamiliar terrain. Rhia and Timothée found themselves falling into an easy rhythm—cooking meals together, playing board games with Dahlia, and sitting by the fireplace after she had gone to bed.

One night, as they sat on the porch under a blanket of stars, Rhia broke the silence. "This is nice," she admitted, her voice soft. "But it doesn't solve the problem, does it?"

Timothée sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, it doesn't. But it gives us time to figure out what we want."

Rhia looked at him, her expression thoughtful. "What do you want, Timothée? For yourself, for Dahlia... for us?"

He met her gaze, his eyes steady. "I want a life where we're not constantly looking over our shoulders. A life where Dahlia can just be a kid, and where you can feel safe and happy. I don't care if it means stepping back from acting or moving somewhere quieter. I'll do whatever it takes."

Rhia's breath hitched at the sincerity in his words. "That's a big sacrifice," she said.

"It's not a sacrifice," he replied. "It's a choice. And I'm choosing you. I'm choosing us."

For the first time in weeks, Rhia felt a sense of hope. The road ahead wouldn't be easy, but for the first time, she believed that they could navigate it together—as a family.