Cole Winslow, founder, CEO, billionaire by 38, held a steaming espresso in one hand, his other tucked into the pocket of tailored slacks. From this high up, the city looked small, almost harmless. But nothing about Cole’s life ever felt small. It was sharp. It was heavy. It was fast.

 Behind him, the space was spotless, too pristine for warmth. A housekeeper came in once a day. Meals were prepped by a chef who never stayed longer than necessary. Everything he owned, art whiskey, even the rarest vinyl records was curated. Yet none of it felt like his. His phone buzzed on the glass table beside him. Another congratulatory article.

 Winslow Tech expands into Dubai real estate. He didn’t bother reading it. His name was a brand. His signature on a deal made headlines. His net worth had climbed above nine figures last year, and somehow he couldn’t remember the last time someone said his name like they loved him. Sloan’s voice broke through the stillness as her heels clicked across the polished floor.

You’ve got Forbes at 2, then the Hannes Investors. Don’t forget we have the Prescott Foundation gala tonight. You’re giving the toast. Cole didn’t turn around. Is that tonight? You’re the guest of honor, Cole. Her tone was light, but there was always something calculated behind it.

 Sloan Prescott, gorgeous, razor sharp, perfectly poised fiance, was everything the world told him a man like him should want, but she rarely asked him how he slept or if he did. “I need you sharp for Dubai,” she added, walking over to straighten his collar, her diamond bracelet catching the morning light. The jets booked for Sunday.

 One week and we’ll be done negotiating. Then Maui, Maui. He repeated it without emotion eyes still on the glass. The silence stretched long enough for her to sigh. Cole, please don’t get in your head again. This is your legacy. He gave her a half smile, the kind he’d mastered for photos. Right. My legacy. Later that day, after back-to-back meetings and another round of handshakes, Cole sat in the back of a private car as it turned onto the I40.

 The sky outside was beginning to soften, stre with tangerine. He stared out the window, unblinking. His grandmother’s lawyer had been persistent. Three calls, two messages, one letter. The will was simple. Come home to Asheville, stay for 90 days, and receive the full inheritance. walk away and it would all be donated to the community.

 It was classic May Winslow, stubborn, wise, and infuriatingly sentimental. Cole hadn’t been back to Asheville in 6 years. Not since he left everything behind the town, the bakery, the girl behind the counter with flower in her hair and hope in her eyes. Rachel, he hadn’t thought about her in months. Or maybe he had in quiet moments, in dreams he didn’t admit having.

 The car hummed along the winding roads weaving through the dense Carolina trees. When they passed the wooden sign that read, “Welcome to Asheville, where life blossoms. Something in Cole’s chest shifted. Memory had a way of creeping in uninvited. The small bookstore where he and Rachel had shared coffee.

 the trail near the river where they first kissed, the brick oven bakery where she used to knead dough before sunrise. He hadn’t just left the town. He disappeared, changed numbers, moved coasts, chased noise so he wouldn’t hear what he’d silenced. The car pulled up to Grand May’s house, a wide southernstyle home with blue shutters and a porch swing that still creaked in the wind. Nothing had changed.

 He stepped out and looked around. The air smelled like honeysuckle and wet earth. The sky above Asheville was wider, quieter. Ms. Opel opened the front door before he could knock. Her silver hair was pulled into a low bun, her apron still dusted with flower. “Well, look what the wind dragged home.” “Hi, Opel. You look tired.

” She hugged him like nothing had passed between them. I told your grandmother this city nonsense wouldn’t fix that ache in you. Cole gave her a small smile, but didn’t respond. Inside the house was just as he remembered. The wallpaper, the antique piano, the smell of cinnamon and old books. Opel handed him a small envelope. Your grandmother left this. Said you should read it alone.

He took it and walked to the sunroom, the place May used to knit and listen to jazz. The envelope was thick, the paper her favorite, ivory linen. He opened it slowly. My dearest Cole, if you’re reading this, it means you came back. That alone tells me your heart is still good. And I hope it means you’re ready to face what you left behind.

Not just this town, but what truly matters. You have 90 days. I hope you’ll use them to rebuild what money could never buy you. I don’t need to say what you already know. P.S. Stop running. The world doesn’t need another empire. It needs men who choose love. Always. May Cole’s hand trembled slightly as he folded the letter. For a long while, he didn’t move.

 just sat in silence, the kind that wrapped around you like a blanket and a mirror at the same time. Later, when the sun had dipped low and the street lamps flickered on, Cole stepped out for a walk. The town center looked almost frozen in time. Same cobblestone streets, same floral awnings outside the shops, same mural of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the old bakery wall.

 And then he saw it. Whitaker’s hearth, a bakery cafe tucked into the corner just across from the bookstore. Light spilled from the windows. Inside, a woman bent behind the counter, helping a small boy reach something from the glass case. Cole stopped walking.

 The child’s face, wide green eyes, brown curls, a curious tilt of the head. Something inside coal cracked open. The woman stood, turned. Rachel, the look in her eyes when she saw him wasn’t anger. It wasn’t joy. It was fear. And beside her, the boy tugged on her sleeve. Mom, that man looks like me. The world tilted. Cole’s breath caught. His throat burned.

 He didn’t know how or why or when. But he knew one thing. That boy was his son. If you enjoyed this video, comment one to let me know. If not, comment two. Your thought mattered to me either way. The bell above the cafe door jingled softly, but the sound felt thunderous in Cole’s ears. For a moment, everything around him stilled.

 Conversations blurred, the clink of mugs became distant, and the air turned thick, like walking underwater. Rachel Whitaker hadn’t moved. Her hand still rested lightly on the boy’s shoulder, as if she were holding on to him and herself all at once. Her eyes a darker shade of stormy blue than he remembered locked onto his.

 There was no smile, no welcome, only a flicker of something sharp and guarded, and a pain he hadn’t prepared himself to see. “Mom,” the little boy repeated, tugging gently at her apron. That man, he really does look like me. Rachel blinked. Her lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came.

 She looked down at the child, then back up at Cole. And just like that, the moment shattered. “Miles,” she said quickly, voice tight but soft. “Why don’t you go sit in the reading nook and pick out a book? I’ll be right there.” The boy looked disappointed but obeyed, wandering toward the corner lined with bean bags and shelves of children’s books. As he turned, Cole caught another glance at his face, and it hit again.

That was his chin, his eyes, his exact crooked smile from an old school photo he hadn’t thought about in decades. Rachel rounded the counter with brisk efficiency, wiping her hands on her apron. She walked straight toward him and stopped just short of reaching his space. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was low, controlled, but her eyes shimmerred, not with tears, but with fury, dressed as calm.

 Cole opened his mouth, but no words came. I mean it, Cole. Why now? She glanced around, lowering her voice even further. “You don’t get to just show up out of nowhere. I didn’t know, he said quietly about him. Her expression didn’t change. You left Cole. You disappeared. You didn’t want this life. You made that perfectly clear. I didn’t know. He repeated firmer now.

 I didn’t know about the boy, about Miles. Rachel crossed her arms. And if you had, what would you have done? Given me hush money, signed a check, and gone back to your penthouse. She exhaled hard, then closed her eyes for half a second. This isn’t a movie, Cole. You don’t get to walk back into town and play hero.

 He took a step closer, just enough to lower his voice. I’m not here to play anything. I came for May’s will. That’s the only reason I returned until I saw him. Her gaze hardened. Then finish your 3 month sign your documents and leave. He doesn’t know who you are. Let’s keep it that way. Cole felt that like a slap to the ribs. Not loud, but devastating.

I have a right to know him, he said more to himself than to her. I missed 5 years. I can’t miss anymore. Rachel shook her head slowly. A right. You gave up your rights the moment you ghosted every call, every message, every letter. You didn’t try hard enough. Oh, don’t you dare,” she whispered, her voice trembling now. “I flew to Charlotte.

 I stood outside your office with a belly so big I couldn’t bend down to tie my shoes. Your assistant wouldn’t even let me in. You were at a gala with her.” Rachel’s jaw tightened. “You made your choice.” Silence fell between them like a wall. Cole’s chest rose and fell. He wanted to speak, but what could he say? Sorry, sounded like an insult.

 Regret didn’t even come close. I didn’t know, Rachel. His voice broke a little. If I had, “But you didn’t.” She snapped her voice sharper now. “Because you didn’t care to. Don’t rewrite history just because it’s convenient now.” Cole looked over to the reading nook where Miles was sitting, cross-legged, deeply engrossed in a picture book. The boy glanced up and caught his eye.

 For a second, a flicker of innocent curiosity passed between them. The way he tilted his head, the same way Cole had as a boy when trying to figure out a puzzle. I just want to talk, Cole said, his voice softening. Please, can we talk properly? Rachel’s lips pressed into a thin line. She hesitated. You still take your break at 4:00? He asked gently, remembering how she used to sit on the back steps with a cup of tea and a honey scone. She blinked. Some things don’t change.

I’ll be here, he said, then turned and walked out without waiting for her answer. Outside, the air felt different, thinner, like he’d run a mile without moving. He leaned against the brick wall beside the cafe window and ran a hand through his hair. His chest achd, not just from what he had lost, but from the way Rachel had looked at him, like a wound she didn’t want to reopen.

 He stared at his reflection in the glass. He still looked polished, composed, but inside something had cracked. He didn’t know what he’d expected. A scene from a movie where the prodigal man returns, sees his son, and gets a second chance handed to him like a gift wrapped box. Instead, he got reality.

 A woman who’d learned to stand on her own. A child who didn’t even know he existed. A past that wasn’t just buried, but concreted over with hurt. At 4:02, the door creaked open behind him. Rachel stepped out, holding two cups of tea. She handed him one without a word, then sat down on the old iron bench next to the flower boxes.

Cole joined her, careful not to say too much too soon. They sat in silence for a minute. Maybe two. The first time he asked about his dad, she said, finally staring straight ahead, he was three. I told him he was away building cities, that he was busy helping people.

 I thought maybe that lie would sting less than the truth. He swallowed hard. I would have been there if I’d known. But you didn’t know because you didn’t want to. She turned to him, her eyes filled with something fierce. And I’m not saying that to punish you. I’m saying it so you don’t hurt him again by pretending this is something you’re ready for.

I want to be. He said, “I need to be.” Rachel looked at her tea. He’s gentle, smart, asks too many questions. He cries at sad stories, and he’s afraid of thunderstorms. You can’t just drop in and pick up where you left off. He’s not a project, Cole. He’s a little boy. I’m not asking for much, just a chance. Her expression softened just slightly.

You have three months here. I can’t stop you from being around, but if you want anything more than a wave from across the street, you’re going to have to earn it. Cole nodded slowly. That’s fair. She stood brushing crumbs from her apron. I have to get back. Rachel, he said before she turned.

 Does he know my name? She paused. He knows the name Cole Winslow. He doesn’t know what it means. Then she walked back inside, leaving the door swinging gently behind her. Cole stayed on the bench a long while after. The tea had gone cold in his hands. And for the first time in 6 years, the silence around him wasn’t empty.

 It was filled with possibility, and the long, steep climb toward forgiveness. Cole barely slept. The night was long filled with quiet shadows and memories that refused to stay buried. He sat in the sunroom where Gran May once knitted every winter evening her favorite jazz records, now silent beneath layers of dust.

 The same chair she used to rock in creaked softly beneath his weight. In his hands he held the letter she’d left him creased now from too much rereading. The words written in her looping script weighed more than any of his skyscrapers. You already know what you need to fix. He did. And he also knew it wouldn’t happen with grand gestures or smooth apologies.

 Rachel had made that crystal clear. By the time morning rolled in, Asheville was already stretching into motion. He looked out the window as the bakery across the square lit up warmth spilling from the wide front windows. A handful of locals gathered outside, chatting, laughing, sipping their first coffee of the day.

 That little corner of the world, once so familiar to him, was now foreign and distant, and yet it pulled at him. At 7:45, Cole stepped out of Grand May’s house and made the short walk to Whitaker’s hearth. The scent of cinnamon and brown sugar hit him before he even reached the front door. He paused, uncertain, before walking in.

 Inside, it was alive with activity. A line of regulars, the hum of a coffee machine, soft folk music playing overhead. And there she was, Rachel, behind the counter. Sleeves rolled up flower on her cheek hair tied back, but still catching bits of light. She moved effortlessly, calling out orders, smiling at customers, completely in control of the space.

 He felt a ripple of something strange in his chest. Morning, stranger. Tammy Lou stood behind him with a tray of pecan scones and a smirk on her face. Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “You stalking our bakery now or just happened to wander in two mornings in a row.” “Guess I missed real coffee?” Cole replied with a soft smile.

 “And scones that don’t come in a branded box.” Tammy rolled her eyes but grinned. “Sit. I’ll bring you something.” Rachel’s too busy to scowl at you just yet. He found a small table near the window, the same one he used to claim when he’d sit and watch Rachel knead dough sometimes, humming under her breath. The nostalgia was warm and dangerous.

A moment later, Rachel appeared at his table, wiping her hands on her apron. Her expression was unreadable. You planning to show up here every day? Maybe. He met her gaze, not trying to cause problems. You being here is a problem. There was no venom in her voice. Just weariness. He lowered his voice.

 I just want to see him. Be part of his world. I’m not asking for everything, Rachel. Just a chance. She sighed, glancing over her shoulder toward the back. He asks about you now. Not directly, but I can see it. He’s curious. Then let me ease into his life. Cole said naturally. I’m not asking for a title or explanation, just time.

Rachel stared at him for a long moment. Then her features softened slightly. He’s got a school fundraiser this weekend, a fall carnival, games, food, that kind of thing. He nodded, hopeful. Don’t approach him. Don’t overwhelm him. Just be there. Let him see you. I can do that. She turned to leave, but paused her voice quieter. He really does look like you, you know.

Cole smiled faintly. He’s better looking. She didn’t smile back, but the way she walked away lacked the tension it had the night before, and that felt like a win. Later that day, Cole found himself sitting in Grand May’s attic. It smelled of cedar and thyme.

 Old trunks lined the walls, and light filtered in through a round window, casting a golden hue on the dustcovered floor. He opened one of the cedar chests, its hinges groaning softly. Inside were photo albums, old letters, and one carefully wrapped parcel with his name written on it in Grandm’s script. He opened it slowly. A small leatherbound notebook fell into his hands.

 It was Rachel’s handwriting on the first page. He knew it instantly. For the days I wanted to tell you everything. His hands froze. Page after page revealed moments of her pregnancy. fears, hopes, bits about cravings, names she liked, her decision to stay, her heartbreak after the Charlotte trip. A single line made his chest tighten. I saw you at that gala. She kissed your cheek. You looked happy.

 I was invisible. Cole sat there for a long time, the pages open across his lap. Guilt wrapped around him like a blanket soaked in cold regret. downstairs. A door opened. Cole Opel’s voice called up the stairs. You’ve got a visitor. He descended slowly, still holding the journal. When he reached the living room, he stopped in his tracks.

 Sheriff Ed Whitaker stood by the fireplace, retired now, but still carrying the presence of someone used to being in charge. Sir Cole said, cautious. Don’t sir me, Winslow. Ed’s eyes narrowed. I came to say one thing. Cole straightened, ready for whatever came. That boy, Miles, he’s my grandson. He’s my whole world. I’ve been the man in his life from the start. Taught him to ride a bike. Held him through ear infections.

I’ve been there. I understand. Cole replied quietly. I’m not here to scare you off. Rachel’s strong. She’ll decide who gets a place in their lives. But you, Ed, stepped forward, voice low. You don’t get to play tourist. If you’re staying, then you better stay for real. Cole didn’t flinch. I’m not leaving.

 Ed studied him for a long beat, then gave a small nod. Then prove it. With that, he left. As the door clicked shut behind the old sheriff, Cole looked back down at the journal in his hands. Proof wouldn’t come in words or memories or promises. It would come in presence, in showing up day after day.

 And Saturday at that fall carnival he would start. Even if it meant standing in the shadows, especially if it meant earning the right to step into the light. If you enjoyed this video, comment one to let me know. If not, comment two. Your thought mattered to me either way. The air buzzed with the sound of laughter.

 Children’s voices rising above the soft folk music playing through the speakers strung across the trees. Orange and gold streamers fluttered in the breeze. The annual Asheville fall carnival had taken over the elementary school’s backfield hay bales stacked for decoration booths lined up selling homemade fudge caramel apples and handcrafted knit scarves.

 The scent of kettle corn and warm cider hung thick in the air. Cole stood near the edge of the field, his hands tucked into the pockets of his wool coat. From where he stood, he could see at all the ring toss the pumpkin painting station, the pie eating contest. But his eyes were fixed on one thing, miles.

 The boy was crouched at the beanag toss with a group of kids his age. His face was painted like a fox, bright orange and white. His laughter cut through the noise and pierced something inside Cole that words couldn’t touch. For a moment, Cole just watched, not as an intruder, as an not as a millionaire trying to fix a mistake, just as a man seeing his child move through the world.

Rachel was close by helping man the raffle booth. But every few minutes her eyes flicked to Miles, then carefully toward Cole. She hadn’t smiled. Not once. Tammy Lou spotted him first. “Well, well, look who showed up,” she said, sidling up with two hot ciders in hand. “Cy boy trying to blend in at a hayride. You might need flannel to pass.

” He allowed a soft smile. “Working on it.” She handed him a cup. Rachel didn’t think you’d come. She told me to stay back, so I’m staying back. Tammy took a sip and looked toward the boy. “He’s been talking about you, you know.” Cole turned to her sharply. “Really?” He asked if the man from the bakery window would be at the carnival. Said he looked like him, but older.

Rachel didn’t answer. Cole felt a deep pull in his chest. “She’s scared,” Tammy added. “Don’t push her. But she’s also tired. You being here consistently will matter more than anything you could say. He nodded, then glanced back at the bean bag toss.

 Miles had just won a stuffed owl and was now running toward the pie booth. His foxtail bounced with every step. Cole couldn’t help but smile. Suddenly, a voice rang out from the main speaker, drawing everyone’s attention. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our annual cakewalk. One of our favorite traditions here in Asheville. Kids line up in a circle. Parents feel free to join. You know the drill walk when the music plays and stop when it stops.

 Last one standing wins a homemade pie from Whitaker’s hearth. At the sound of that, Cole saw Rachel stiffen. It was one of the town’s more beloved traditions and apparently still tied to her. Miles was already hopping in excitement. Mom, come walk with me. Rachel hesitated, then stepped around the table.

 All right, all right, but just one round. The crowd gathered. Music began an old banjo tune, and the cakewalk started. Miles held Rachel’s hand, hopping in rhythm beaming. Cole stood just beyond the ring of people sipping his cider, pretending not to ache. Then it happened. The music stopped. Everyone froze. The host called out the winning number. Miles and Rachel erupted in cheers they’d won.

 The boy jumped up and down. His face lit with pure joy. She bent down, hugging him tightly. Cole watched the mother and son a complete picture that he was outside of, and it nearly crushed him. As Rachel stood back up, her eyes found Cole’s again. This time she didn’t look away.

 Slowly, deliberately, she walked toward him with Miles still holding her hand. “Hey,” she said softly when she reached him. “He wants to say something.” Miles looked up. His fox paint was starting to smudge at the edges. “You look like me,” he said, tilting his head.

 “Did anyone ever tell you that Cole crouched, lowering himself to the boy’s eye level?” Only the smartest people, he answered gently. What’s your name? Miles Whitaker. He held up his prize. I want a pie. It’s apple cinnamon. Mom made it. I heard her pies are legendary. Miles nodded, then leaned in slightly. You were at the bakery, too. I was. Rachel’s hand tensed slightly on Miles’s shoulder.

 Do you live here now? The boy asked. Cole glanced at Rachel, then back at Miles. I do for a while. I’m staying at my grandma’s house just across the square. Grand May’s house. Miles’s eyes widened. Mom says she was really kind. She was the best kind of person. The boy smiled, then paused. Want to see my school project later? I made a model of a treehouse with a secret ladder. I’d love that Cole said his voice catching slightly.

 Rachel took a small breath. Miles, why don’t you go show Tammy Lou your prize? I’ll be right there. The boy took off running pie in hand. Cole stood his face still soft from the moment. Rachel didn’t speak right away. He doesn’t understand what this is, she said finally. But I know that look. He’s already attaching to you. I’m not going anywhere. That’s easy to say. Harder to live.

 I came to the carnival, he said quietly. I stayed back. I waited. I let him come to me. Rachel’s eyes searched his. You did, and you were kind. But Cole, she paused. You’re walking on fragile ground. He’s never had a father figure besides my dad. And you’re already making cracks in what he knows. That’s not nothing. I don’t want to hurt him.

Then you need to be here not just when it’s convenient or emotional, but for the hard days, too. When he’s sick, when he has nightmares, when he’s quiet for no reason and won’t say what’s wrong. Cole nodded, eyes never leaving hers. Rachel finally let out a long breath. Come to the bakery tomorrow morning before open, his brows lifted.

Yeah, not for coffee, she clarified. For work. We’ve got flower deliveries at 7:00. Let’s see what you’re made of. He smiled. I’m warning you. I’ve been known to burn toast. We don’t toast flour. She walked away before he could respond. But for the first time since he’d come back to Asheville, Cole felt the smallest crack of light pushing through the weight on his chest. It wasn’t forgiveness. It wasn’t love.

But it was something, a beginning. The morning air was still dark when Cole arrived at the back entrance of Whitaker’s hearth. A faint fog clung to the sidewalks, softening the edges of Asheville’s early morning hush. The lights in the bakery glowed like a beacon in the dim, sleepy street. He hesitated before knocking hands tucked in the pockets of a navy fleece jacket that looked much too clean for the work ahead. The door cracked open.

 “You’re 5 minutes early,” Rachel said, her voice still groggy. She wore a faded sweatshirt and Jean’s hair tied up in a loose bun, a dusting of flour already on her forearm. “I didn’t want to be late.” She gave him a once over. Good, because you’re carrying the flower crates in from the truck. I figured, he replied with a small smile stepping through the door.

 The kitchen was warm and alive with the smell of yeast and cinnamon. A large metal table stood in the center, already scattered with mixing bowls, trays, and laminated order sheets. Tammy Lou was there, too, tying on her apron, singing faintly to an old Paty Klein tune on the radio. Well, look what the rooster dragged in. She grinned. Mr. Suit and Tie turned doughboy.

 Cole smirked. Do I get a name tag? Nope. You get the crates trucks outside? He turned to Rachel. I’m serious about being useful. We’ll see. Outside the delivery truck was parked along the curb, the back already open. Cole climbed in and started hauling the flower bags, 50 lb sacks stacked deep. By the third one, his shoulders started to burn.

 By the sixth, his breath was tight. But he didn’t stop. Inside, Rachel watched from the prep station. Arms folded, pretending not to care. But every time he winced, her brow twitched. By the time he dragged in the final crate, his hair was damp with sweat and his chest heaved with effort. “All right,” Rachel said, tossing him a rag. “Wash up.

 Then I’ll show you how to make pie dough. Cole blinked. You’re letting me touch the dough. She tilted her head. Don’t flatter yourself. It’s only because we’re short on hands this morning. He stepped up beside her, rubbing his hands with a towel. You always this tough on new hires? No, she said flatly. Just the ones who left without saying goodbye. The moment hung in the air.

 He didn’t reply. Instead, he focused on the dough, watching her every move. She demonstrated once flour, butter, ice water, then pushed a bowl toward him. “Your turn.” He followed her steps carefully, eyes flicking from her hands to his own. Rachel leaned against the counter, watching with the faintest trace of amusement. “You’re being gentle,” she noted.

 “Most people overwork it.” May used to say, “Does like a relationship. Handle it too rough and it falls apart. Too soft and it never sets right.” Rachel’s eyes flicked to him. Something shifted in her expression just for a moment. She used to say that she murmured, turning away to grab a tray. The morning rolled on with a rhythm he hadn’t expected. He rolled out crusts.

She fixed his edges. Tammy Louu cracked jokes about turning him into a barista next. The hum of ovens and the scent of rising bread gave the place a pulse alive and comforting. When Miles walked in around eight backpack slung over his shoulder, Cole looked up instinctively. “Mom,” he said brightly. “I showed Mrs.

 Douly the pie I won. She said it looked too good to eat.” Rachel leaned down, brushing a crumb off his shirt. Did you tell her you helped make the whipped cream? Miles beamed. Then his eyes landed on Cole. You’re still here. Cole smiled. Told you I’d be around. Did you make anything yet? Just do. Cole said.

 And I might have oversalted one of the batches. So no promises. Miles giggled. Can I help Rachel? Hesitated. Only for 10 minutes, kiddo. Then you’ve got to get to school. They stood side by side, Rachel Cole and Miles, at the long prep table. Cole handed Miles a tiny apron that Tammy Lou had dug out of a drawer. It barely reached his knees.

Cole whispered, “You look like a professional already.” Miles grinned, glancing up at him. “We should make chocolate muffins next.” Rachel shook her head. “It’s apple day, remember?” The boy groaned dramatically. Apples again. Cole leaned in. You know, I used to think the same thing when I was your age. But if you sneak a tiny bit of caramel inside the apples, Miles gasped.

That’s genius. Rachel raised a brow. Sabotaging the menu already. He grinned. Innovation. Miles helped fold dough scraps, his little hands dusted in flour. Cole didn’t realize he was holding his breath, watching the boy so closely. Every laugh, every glance, it all felt like seconds he’d never get back, but didn’t want to miss again.

 When it was time to leave for school, Rachel walked miles to the door. Cole followed behind, stopping as she helped zip his coat. Miles looked up at her. “Can he walk with us?” Rachel looked at Cole. Do you want to? He nodded quietly. They walked the few blocks in silence. At first, the morning sun rising over the rooftops.

 Miles talked about his art project, how he wanted to draw a comic book. How Mrs. Douly had a beagle named Frank. His chatter was light, joyful. At the school gates, Rachel crouched to hug him. “Have a good day, okay?” he nodded, then turned to Cole. Bye. The word was shy but real. Cole’s heart jumped.

 Rachel stood up beside him, watching as the boy ran through the doors and disappeared inside. They stood quietly for a moment. He’s amazing, Cole said. Rachel didn’t answer right away. Then she turned slowly. Her voice was quiet. You missed a lot, Cole. I know. He walked at 9 months, said his first word right after his first birthday. Moon. I don’t know why. He used to cry when he heard thunder. I used to sleep on the floor next to his bed. She paused.

 He called my dad pops until last year. That’s when he realized no one else in his class called their grandpa dad. Cole’s throat tightened. I tried, she whispered. to protect him from the hole you left. But holes don’t just vanish. His voice was raw when he answered. I want to be here for him, for everything.

She didn’t look at him, then start proving it. One morning at a time, she walked away, the back of her sweatshirt catching the light. Cole stood still, watching her fade into the glow of the town. And for the first time since his return, he realized what earning forgiveness would really mean. It wouldn’t be dramatic.

 It would be quiet, steady, earned with flower streaked hands and early mornings, one moment at a time. The sun was barely peeking over the Blue Ridge Mountains when Cole unlocked the back door of Whitaker’s hearth. He stepped inside quietly, careful not to startle anyone, though the soft hum of early morning jazz playing through the speakers suggested Rachel had already been at work.

 Again, the kitchen smelled like brown sugar and roasted peacons. He paused in the doorway, taking in the now familiar chaos. Flour scattered across countertops, bowls stacked in the sink, and Rachel in a faded flannel shirt and apron, gently brushing egg wash over rows of miniature pies. “You’re early,” she said without looking up. “I brought coffee from the good place on Market Street.

” She glanced over. “Trying to bribe your way into extra brownie points? No, just figured you’ve been up since before dawn again. She gave a small, reluctant smile and nodded toward the prep table. Fine, one cup, but only if it’s strong. Cole set the coffee down and leaned against the counter. You always work this hard.

 Only on the days that end in Y. She took a sip, closed her eyes briefly, and sighed. Okay, you’re forgiven for being 5 minutes late yesterday. He smiled. Progress. They moved into rhythm again, rolling, cutting, filling trays the same way they had for the past several mornings. But this time, the quiet between them didn’t feel like distance.

 It felt familiar. Cole stole a glance at her. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she was still beautiful in the kind of way that didn’t try to be the kind of beauty that just was natural, strong, worn in, not worn out. Rachel, he said softly. Can I ask you something you just did? She quipped, then softened. Go ahead.

 Back then, when I left, did you ever plan to tell me? She froze her hand hovering above a tray. The air stilled. He didn’t rush her. Finally, she set the tray down and leaned back against the counter arms folded. I did, she said quietly. I tried. I didn’t want to raise a child with a lie between us, even if we weren’t together. He nodded slowly. But you didn’t.

 No, because I saw you remember. Her voice trembled at the edges. In Charlotte, at that rooftop event, you were standing next to Sloan. She was wearing that gold dress and you were laughing. You looked happy, untouchable. I had one hand on my stomach and a hotel key in the other. And I couldn’t do it. Cole’s breath caught. The memory was there buried beneath a thousand deals and late nights.

 that event, that flashbulb moment. He remembered the rooftop, the drinks, the photographers. He’d been performing a role that night, pretending the future was shiny and complete, but it hadn’t been. I wasn’t happy, he said softly. I was performing for investors, for press, for the idea of what I thought success had to look like.

 You didn’t look unhappy. Neither did you, he replied gently. Rachel looked down, blinking fast. I went back to Asheville that night and didn’t tell a soul, not even my dad. Just said it didn’t work out. I started writing letters to you during the pregnancy. Never sent them. Couldn’t find the right address or the courage. Cole stepped closer.

I found them in May’s attic. Her head snapped up, eyes wide. They were in a box, he said, wrapped in that blue ribbon you always used for gift wrap. She closed her eyes. She said she saved everything. She did. Rachel let out a shaky breath and for the first time he saw it, how tired she really was. Not just from work, but from carrying it all for so long.

 I didn’t just leave you, he whispered. I left who I was with you. The better part of me. She looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. You broke my heart. I know. The timer on the oven beeped sharp and sudden, but neither of them moved. The silence between them held more weight than anything else in the room.

 Finally, Rachel turned and pulled the pies from the oven, setting them gently on the cooling rack. The golden crusts sizzled, filling the kitchen with a buttery aroma. She didn’t face him when she said, “This doesn’t change things. Not right away. I don’t expect it to, but you need to know.” Miles is sensitive. He’s smart, but he feels everything.

 He asks questions when he senses something is off. He’s going to ask about you. “What should I say?” Rachel turned around slowly. Tell him the truth. That you made a mistake. That you’re trying to fix it. That you’re here now. I can do that. She nodded, then grabbed two plates from the shelf. Sit.

 We need to taste these before they go out. Quality control. Cole pulled out a stool at the island. She placed a still warm hand pie in front of him and one for herself. He took a bite. This is dangerously good. Rachel smiled. Of course it is. They sat in silence again, the soft jazz playing low in the background. Then the front bell jingled.

 Tammy Lou stuck her head and eyes twinkling. Sorry to interrupt your little pie date, but someone just pulled up outside in a Lexus convertible. Tall heels attitude. That looks has trouble. Rachel raised an eyebrow. Anyone you know? Cole’s heart dropped. Slowly, he stood and walked to the front window.

 There she was, Sloan Prescott, stepping out of her car like she was on a magazine shoot. Perfect hair, designer coat, lips painted in a shade of red that matched ambition. She adjusted her sunglasses and looked directly toward the bakery. “She’s here,” Cole muttered. Rachel joined him at the window. I take it that’s her. He nodded. Yeah, she’s exactly what I pictured.

 She doesn’t know about Miles. Rachel’s expression didn’t shift. Well, she’s about to. Cole stepped back from the window, running a hand through his hair. Rachel stayed still. She’s not just a complication, she said after a pause. She’s your past, and I need to know if you’re going to choose to stay in the present.

” He looked at her, the weight of it all suddenly pressing down. “I don’t want a life with someone who only wants part of me,” he said quietly. “I want this flower mistakes early mornings. You, him,” Rachel met his gaze. “I’ve heard words before, Cole,” she said, voice steady. “Let’s see what you do next.” The bell over the door jingled again.

Sloan stepped inside, and just like that, the storm arrived. The jingle of the bakery door fell like a dropped glass in the silence. Sloan Prescott stepped inside Whitaker’s hearth, like she owned the room. Her heels clicked once on the polished wood floor before she paused to take it all in.

 the rustic beams, the chalkboard menu, the mason jars lined neatly along the shelves. It was a different world from the one she belonged to, and she didn’t hide her surprise. “Chming,” she said, removing her sunglasses slowly, her gaze landing directly on Cole. “There you are.” Cole stood frozen for half a beat. His heart was hammering in a strange, confused rhythm. He didn’t want this confrontation here. Not in this space.

Not in Rachel’s space. Sloan, he said calmly. I wasn’t expecting you. That’s clear, she said, scanning the room. I’ve called. I’ve texted. I even emailed you. 3 days of silence. I thought maybe your jet broke down or her eyes flicked to Rachel you’d found a new distraction. Rachel didn’t flinch.

 She stood behind the counter, wiping her hands on a dish towel, calm but alert, watching, listening. I needed time, Cole said. To think, and this is where you chose to think. Back in Mayberry. It’s Asheville, Rachel said cooly. Sloan turned to her, offering a tight smile. Of course, sorry. I’m Sloan Prescott. Rachel Whitaker. Oh, the baker. Rachel gave her a small nod. That’s me. Sloan tilted her head, assessing.

 You make the pies he’s been texting about. Probably Rachel said, then added with just enough bite, but he’s been baking them himself lately. Sloan looked back at Cole. Seriously, Cole tried to keep his voice level. I’ve had a lot to process. Right? Sloan said, eyes narrowing. You vanish mid deal, leave your board hanging, and I find you elbows deep in pastry dough playing house with a woman you haven’t seen in six years. The air snapped.

 Tammy Lou appeared in the kitchen doorway, took one look at Sloan and backed out without a word. Cole stepped forward. Let’s talk outside. No, Sloan said, “I came all the way here. We’re talking now.” Rachel met Cole’s eyes. Maybe she has the right to ask. Cole’s jaw tensed. He looked at Sloan. You want the truth? That would be refreshing. I left Charlotte because I needed space from everything.

 From the noise, the deals, the image. I came here for the will. I stayed because I saw someone I’d once loved and someone I never knew existed. Sloan blinked. What does that mean? Rachel’s voice broke the silence. It means you’re not the only one who didn’t know about the boy. Sloan turned to her sharply. What boy? The room quieted. Cole swallowed. Sloan, I have a son.

 The words landed like thunder. Sloan blinked, laughed once short, and stunned. Excuse me, he’s five, Cole continued. His name is Miles. Rachel didn’t tell me back then. She tried. I didn’t see it. I didn’t want to. Sloan stared at him. So, this this trip wasn’t about you taking a breath. It was about running back to her, to them.

 I didn’t plan for this, Cole said, voice low. But now that I’m here, I can’t walk away from it. Sloan took a step back as if the words physically hit her. So, that’s it. You’re just staying? Cole didn’t hesitate. Yes. Rachel looked down her hands, tightening on the dish towel. She hadn’t expected him to say it. Not like that. Not out loud. Sloan’s voice dropped.

 We had a life planned. We had a launch in Dubai. You were giving a speech next week. You promised me I promised you a future that looked good on paper coal cutting. But it wasn’t honest. Not to you. Not to me. A silence fell again. A deeper one. Sloan’s eyes burned, not with rage, but disbelief. You said you loved me. I wanted to,” he said, soft but steady.

 “But I don’t think I ever did. Not the way you deserve. I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have.” Sloan turned to Rachel. “Is this what you wanted?” Rachel blinked. “I didn’t ask him to stay. I told him to prove it.” Sloan gave a bitter smile. “Well, I hope you get more from him than I did.

” She turned on her heel heels, clicking sharply as she walked out the door without looking back. The bell jingled again. And then silence. Cole exhaled slowly. He felt like he’d been holding his breath for days. Rachel didn’t say anything. She walked over to the window and looked out at the street.

 He followed her, stood beside her close but not touching. I’m sorry, he said. She shook her head. Don’t say that like it’s a line. It’s not. I meant it. Every word. I’m not leaving. Rachel turned to him. That wasn’t for me. That was for you. You needed to say it. You needed to be honest for once. He nodded. I still don’t know what this is between us, she admitted.

And I’m not going to rush into something just because it feels familiar. I’m not asking you to, he said gently. I just want to be here with you. With him. One day at a time. Rachel’s gaze softened just slightly. One day at a time. She walked back toward the kitchen. We’ve got an order for 12 mini pecan pies.

 You up for it? Cole let out a breath. Put me in coach. Rachel gave the faintest smile over her shoulder. And don’t burn the crusts. He stepped into the kitchen after her, a little lighter than before. The storm had come, and he was still standing. The bakery was quiet again, not the usual comforting quiet that came after the morning rush. This silence felt heavy, like the echo of something unresolved.

The kind that lingered after too much had been said, and not enough. Cole stood at the sink, rinsing a mixing bowl that didn’t need cleaning. His sleeves rolled up, arms damp, thoughts louder than the jazz playing softly overhead. Rachel had gone to the front to restock the pastry display, and though they’d exchanged a few words since Sloan’s dramatic exit, neither of them had touched the real tension still sitting between them.

 He dried his hands and stepped into the storefront just as Rachel was rearranging the mini pies. Her back was to him, but she paused mid-motion like she felt him there. “You okay?” he asked gently. She didn’t turn around. She left a voicemail. Sloan Rachel nodded her fingers, brushing over a tin of cinnamon rolls. She said she’s flying back tonight. Told me I won.

 As if any of this is a contest. Cole exhaled. It’s not. I know that, she said quietly. But part of me feels like I still lost something. He stepped closer. What do you mean? She finally turned to face him. Her eyes were clear but guarded. You’re standing here now saying all the right things, but 6 years ago you chose her. The life, the spotlight.

You didn’t come looking for me, Cole. You came here for a signature on a will. His throat tightened. You’re right. I’m trying to believe you’ve changed. But I need to be sure this isn’t just guilt or nostalgia. It’s not, he said softly. I’ve spent years building this life, this business, raising a child without expecting anyone else to step in.

 I don’t want you to drop in like some lost prince and think you can sweep everything into a neat little bow. I don’t, he said, voice steady. I don’t want to take over. I want to earn my place in it. Rachel looked at him for a long time. Then her voice softened. Miles asked if you could come to the library event this weekend. He blinked. Really? She nodded.

 It’s a reading and activity night. Local authors. Kids dress up like their favorite characters. He picked a detective. Cole smiled. Smart choice. He asked if you’d dress up, too. Me, he said. Cole looks like he could be good at solving clues. Cole laughed gently. I think I just got my first official invite. Rachel’s expression shifted warmth, slipping in beneath the caution.

 I told him, “It’s up to you. I’ll be there.” Cole said, “Detective hat and all.” Before she could respond, the bell above the door chimed. A familiar face stepped in broad shoulders, pressed khakis, and a deputy sheriff’s badge catching the light. Morning.

 Rachel said, “Ed Whitaker, her father,” his voice calm but layered. Then his gaze landed on Cole. Didn’t expect to find you still here. Cole straightened slightly. Morning, Sheriff. Retired. Ed corrected. But I keep the tone when necessary. Rachel sighed. Dad. No, it’s fine. Cole said. I imagine you’ve got some thoughts.

 Ed took a slow walk toward the counter, placing a hand on it like he was sizing something up. Thoughts? No. I’ve got a lifetime of questions, but I figure most of them don’t matter anymore. Rachel looked between them, uneasy. Ed continued, eyes fixed on Cole. My grandson is smart, kind. He’s got this way of looking at people like he can see right through them. I won’t lie, son. You left a mess.

 And I’ve spent the last few years helping clean it up. I know, Cole said. And I’m sorry, more than I can put into words. Ed didn’t blink. You can say sorry all day, but my daughter and grandson deserve more than words. You understand? I do. Ed nodded slowly. Then keep showing up. Not just when it’s easy. That boy doesn’t need a hero.

 He needs a man who doesn’t leave again. Cole nodded his voice thick. You have my word. Rachel watched her father for a moment, then gave him a soft smile. Want coffee, Dad? He broke into a rare grin. I thought you’d never ask. As she turned toward the kitchen, Ed looked back at Cole and lowered his voice. She never said your name in front of him. Not once. Not until last week.

 That tells me this is delicate. Don’t push too hard. Cole nodded. I’ll follow her lead. Good. Then maybe just maybe we’ll all survive this. Later that afternoon, the town buzzed with its usual rhythm. Kids out of school, couples strolling downtown shopkeepers chatting outside storefronts.

 Cole sat on the front steps of Grand May’s house, watching as leaves drifted across the sidewalk. A soft rustle from behind made him turn. Ms. Opel emerged from the garden, a basket of herbs in one hand. Didn’t think I’d see you digging roots in this town again, she said without preamble. Cole gave her a small smile. Didn’t think I’d be welcome. You’re not a villain, Cole, she said, settling beside him.

 But you left behind a girl who had to become a woman overnight and a child who had questions with no answers. I didn’t know. Knowing doesn’t always matter, she said gently. Being here now does. Staying here will matter more. He looked down. Do you think I can earn back what I lost? Miss Opel smiled faintly. People think redemption comes all at once. Big moment, big gesture, but it’s slower than that.

 Like bread rising, quiet, patient. He let that settle. Then she added, “But the oven’s hot now, baby. You can’t walk away midbake.” He laughed softly and she patted his knee. Don’t burn it this time. That night, Cole sat at the kitchen table with a journal open in front of him.

 Not a business plan, not a contract, just words, fragments of what he was feeling, hopes he hadn’t said aloud, promises he wanted to keep. He flipped to a clean page and wrote one sentence across the top. Be someone Miles never has to question. and under it a second be someone Rachel never has to recover from again. The pen hovered for a moment, then he set it down, letting the silence of the house answer back. He wasn’t here for a second chance at love.

 He was here to earn it, one page at a time. The Friday afternoon sun slanted low over Asheville, casting long golden shadows through the bakery windows as Rachel boxed up the last of the day’s orders. The town was already buzzing about the libraries book buddies night, and she could practically hear the hum of children’s costumes rustling down sidewalks.

Behind her, Cole adjusted his tie in the reflection of the bakery’s glass door, an old detective style fedora perched slightly crooked on his head. He looked out of place in the best possible way, like a puzzle piece, finally figuring out where it belonged.

 “You going to laugh at me if I show up looking like this?” he asked, glancing back at her. Rachel didn’t smile. Not at first. She just studied him, his dark slacks, the navy blazer, the vintage toy badge he’d pinned on like Miles had asked. “No,” she said softly. “I think he’s going to love it.” Cole exhaled. “You nervous?” she asked. He shrugged. “It’s just a library, right? Crafts and cookies.

” Rachel stepped closer, pulling a thread off his jacket. Her fingers lingered longer than necessary. It’s more than that to him. to me too. They locked eyes and for a split second the tension between them curled warm like rising steam. But then Rachel stepped back and grabbed her keys from the counter. Come on, detective.

 We’re going to be late. The library parking lot was already half full when they pulled in. Parents and kids streamed toward the front entrance. Many of the little ones wearing capes, wizard hats, or oversized glasses. Miles stood by the flag pole in a trench coat and paper mustache holding a magnifying glass the size of his head.

“There’s my partner, Cole,” said stepping out of the car. Miles turned, lit up like sunrise. “You came.” Cole squatted to his level. “Detective Winslow reporting for duty.” Rachel watched as Miles reached into his bag and handed Cole a folded piece of paper. your clue sheet. We have to find all the mystery stations to earn a badge.

Cole took it solemnly. Then we better get moving. The night unfolded in scenes so sweet they felt unreal. Cole and Miles crouched beneath tables hunting clues, Rachel watching them from the reading nook, laughter spilling around her like sunlight.

 Miles introduced Cole to his favorite librarian, who raised her brows when she heard the word dad whispered under the boy’s breath. Rachel caught it, too. Her heart stuttered in her chest. She didn’t say anything, didn’t correct him, didn’t cry, just watched as Cole gently helped Miles glue googly eyes onto a cardboard detective hat, brushing crumbs off his sleeve like it was second nature.

It was after the final story time, when the room had emptied out and the cleanup had begun, that Brent Folsam appeared. He stepped through the children’s wing doors like he didn’t belong there, his usual buttoned up charm slightly rumpled.

 He held a clipboard in one hand, and that polished mayoral smile that always had a little edge to it. “Rachel,” he called, lightly, approaching with confident steps. didn’t expect to see you here.” She straightened. “It’s the biggest community event of the month. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Brent smiled wider. “Of course. Just thought you’d be home prepping for tomorrow’s fundraiser.” Cole stood up slowly, adjusting his blazer. “Evening.

” Brent’s eyes flicked to him. “Ah, the prodigal returns. Something like that.” Brent’s gaze lingered. “Heard you’ve been busy.” “I’ve been reconnecting,” Cole replied calmly. “With family?” “Rachel stepped between them, her voice cool.” “What do you want?” Brent Brent lifted the clipboard. “Just finalizing the vendor list. I noticed you’re not on it this year.” “I wasn’t invited.

” “You’re always invited,” he said, smile tightening. But I figured with all your distractions lately, you’d be stepping back. Rachel’s jaw clenched. My bakery’s as steady as ever. I’ll be there. Cole saw the flicker in Brent’s eyes. Possession, jealousy, maybe regret, but also something deeper resentment that Cole had returned and rattled the cage he’d quietly taken over.

 Brent nodded once, a little too crisp, looking forward to it then. As he turned to go, he paused. Nice hat, by the way. Cole smiled. Miles picked it out. Brent kept walking. Rachel didn’t speak until the door shut behind him. That man thinks he owns half this town, she muttered. Cole leaned in. “And the other half?” She looked up at him, unsure whether he meant her or her heart or the son now playing with paper hats in the corner.

 I don’t owe him anything, she said. I didn’t think you did. She sighed, eyes softening. He helped a lot after my dad stepped down. Got me city permits, marketing leads. I think he always thought if he just waited long enough, you’d come around. She nodded. But I didn’t. I never did. Cole swallowed the question resting on his tongue.

 the one he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask. Was there ever a chance you would have instead? He whispered. “Thank you for letting me come tonight.” Rachel watched Miles, who was packing up his crafts with care. “You earned it,” she said softly. And for the first time in years, Cole believed her. Outside, the air had cooled.

 Leaves rustled across the sidewalk as they walked to the car. Miles held Rachel’s hand with one and Cole’s with the other, swinging his arms like pendulums. “Can we do this again?” he asked. Cole looked at Rachel, she looked back. “We’ll see,” she said. But her fingers brushed Cole’s as she buckled Miles in. “And that was answer enough.

” Saturday morning broke with the kind of slow golden light that made everything feel softer than it was. Cole stood in the center of Grand May’s kitchen sleeves, rolled up, staring at a pile of handwritten recipes she’d tucked into an old shoe box.

 Her cursive was elegant, slanted, with little heart doodles next to the family favorites. Her peach cobbler was circled three times in red ink with the word never fail underlined at the bottom. He’d been up since before dawn trying to recreate it for the town fundraiser. The smell of cinnamon and brown sugar floated through the house, and despite the peace, he felt the undercurrent of something shifting beneath the surface.

Today mattered, not just because the town was watching, but because Rachel was watching. Downstairs, he heard a knock on the door, two short, one long. Rachel. He opened it to find her standing there in jeans and a navy button-up holding a crate of baked goods. Her hair was pulled back, no makeup cheeks already pink from the crisp morning air.

 “Thought you could use some backup,” she said, stepping inside. He smiled. “Please, I’ve been drowning in cobbler.” She walked to the stove, lifted the lid on the pot, and inhaled. Okay, I’m impressed. I followed Grand May’s notes to the letter. She’d be proud. He looked at her. Would you? She paused, then met his eyes. I am.

 That small exchange filled something in him. A quiet, steady confidence that he was doing something right. At the town square, the fundraiser was already in motion. Tents were popping up along Main Street, the scent of roasted peanuts and kettle corn drifting through the fall air. Families filtered in with picnic blankets.

 Musicians tuned guitars under the sycamore trees, and a steady hum of conversation wrapped the morning in warmth. Rachel’s booth, Whitaker’s hearth, sat between a local honey vendor and a crafts table run by the middle school art club. Cole helped unload trays of muffins, loaves, and pies while Miles bounced beside them in a homemade apron that read official taste tester. People stared. Whispers passed. Not mean, just curious.

The man who left had returned with a son no one knew existed. Tammy Lou appeared with a fresh pot of coffee and a wink. Y’all have become the town’s favorite soap opera, but better dressed. Rachel laughed, handing her a pastry. Then we better give him a good finale. By midm morning, the booth was buzzing. Customers lined up, placing orders, complimenting the spread.

 Cole worked beside Rachel, handing out change, explaining flavors, smiling at old classmates, and new faces alike. He wasn’t just passing through anymore. He was in it. Then Brent showed up. This time it wasn’t just a passing hello. He walked straight to the booth, a clipboard tucked under one arm, dressed like he was running for office, even though the election wasn’t for months.

Morning, he said, voice syrupy. Rachel’s jaw tightened slightly. Brent, he looked over the display. Looks like business is booming. It is, Cole answered. Brent didn’t acknowledge him. Funny how success seems to follow some people no matter where they land. Rachel gave a polite smile.

 Is there something you need? Brent held up a flyer. Just a reminder we have town hall this week. Small business updates development zoning infrastructure. His eyes finally flicked to Cole. You might be interested considering the rumors. Cole tilted his head. What rumors? Brent smiled thinly. That you’re planning to buy up old property downtown, renovate, flip it again.

Rachel turned sharply. What? I haven’t bought anything, Cole said carefully. Not yet. I’m still listening. But you’ve looked, Rachel said quieter. He met her eyes. Only because I thought it could help. I saw some vacant lots that could become something better, safer. Brent stepped in. That’s how it starts, Rachel.

 Outsiders come in with good intentions. Next thing you know, rent doubles and families move out. I’m not trying to bulldo anything, Cole said, voice calm but firmer. I’ve been meeting with local partners. Quietly, respectfully, Rachel stepped back slightly, folding her arms. You didn’t mention that. I wanted to have a plan first.

 And once again she said, voice tight, “You made a plan without me.” The moment stretched the noise of the festival seeming to fade behind the sharp, aching quiet. Brent took the opportunity, just something to think about. He turned and walked away, leaving a silence behind him that was heavier than before. Cole looked at Rachel. “I was going to tell you, I just needed more time.

” You always say that. She said, her voice softer now, but tired. “You always need more time.” He reached out gently, but she stepped back. “I need to check on Miles,” she said, and walked off toward the crafts tent where Tammy Lou was painting pumpkins with the kids. “Cole stood there, the scent of cinnamon and peaches, suddenly sickly sweet. He’d come here to build something.

But now he wasn’t sure what was standing and what had already started to fall. Behind him, an older woman handed him a $5 bill and pointed to a mini cobbler. He boxed it up in silence, trying not to crumble. He looked toward the crafts tent where Rachel knelt beside Miles, helping him choose stickers.

 Her hands were gentle, her smile quiet, but her body was turned away from him. He wasn’t outside the circle anymore. Not fully. But he wasn’t fully inside it either. Not yet. And the crack between the two. It was starting to show. It rained the next morning.

 Not the kind that passed quickly, but a quiet, steady drizzle that turned the streets of Asheville silver and made everything feel slower, heavier. Rachel stood at the window of her bakery, coffee cooling in her hands, watching the drops trail down the glass like the thoughts running through her. Cole hadn’t texted since the fundraiser. Not a good morning. Not a can we talk.

 She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed. Behind her, Tammy Lou flipped through invoices, occasionally peeking over her glasses. You know he’s not a mind reader, right? Rachel didn’t respond. Tammy set the papers down. You didn’t exactly leave the door open yesterday. Rachel turned. He was making secret plans about my town, my neighborhood.

 He was making plans to stay. Tammy countered. You said you didn’t want promises. You said you wanted proof. Rachel opened her mouth, then shut it again. Tammy walked over, placed a hand on her shoulder. I saw him with Miles yesterday. That man didn’t just show up. He’s trying. Rachel nodded slowly. I know. Outside a car pulled up to the curb.

 A silver rental. Cole stepped out holding something under a clear plastic covering papers. Blueprints. He hesitated at the door. Rachel didn’t move. Are you going to let him in or let the rain do the talking? Tammy asked. Rachel opened the door before she could change her mind. Cole looked like he hadn’t slept.

 His shirt was damp at the shoulders, hair curling at the edges from the mist. I know this isn’t the best time, he said. But I need to show you something. She stepped aside wordlessly. He laid the papers out on the counter. Four blueprints, two sketches, and a letter clipped to the top. I’ve been working with a local architect, he said.

 someone Grand May hired once for a church remodel. I asked her to help me draw something up. Rachel scanned the drawings. They weren’t shopping plazas or luxury condos. They were small, practical, cozy, a community space, he said. Open market stalls, a daycare, rent controlled housing for single parents and seniors, a culinary incubator for startup kitchens.

Rachel looked at him stunned. Why didn’t you say anything sooner? I wasn’t sure you’d believe me. She touched one of the blueprints fingertips, tracing a handdrawn sketch of what looked like her bakery duplicated into a teaching kitchen. I’m not trying to build over your life, Rachel, he said. I’m trying to build into it.

 The silence between them filled with something unspoken, a possibility, a truth. Then the door burst open. Mom Miles shouted breathless. He’d just come from the school bus drop off around the corner raincoat hanging crooked over his backpack. Miss Opel’s not at church and she always brings lemon bars on Monday. I knocked but no one answered.

Rachel blinked. She didn’t show. Cole looked at her. She never misses a Monday. Rachel grabbed her keys. Let’s go. They reached Miss Opel’s house within minutes. Cole knocked gently. No answer. Rachel called her name. Still nothing. But just as they were about to call for help, the front door creaked open slowly. Miss Opel stood there in her robe, hair uncomed, eyes blery.

 “Oh heavens, is it Monday?” Rachel stepped forward. “You okay?” Miss Opel chuckled, the sound brittle. I just overslept. First time in years. I guess I’m finally slowing down. They walked her to the couch, checked her blood pressure, made tea. She was fine, just tired, she insisted. But something about the moment made everything else feel smaller.

 Cole sat beside her gently, lifting her feet onto a stool. You scared us. Mel patted his hand. Life has a way of reminding us what matters. Rachel stood in the doorway watching the two of them, something cracking gently inside her. Later, back at the bakery, as the rain let up and clouds began to part, she finally said what had been building.

I was scared, too. Cole looked at her. Of what? That if I let you all the way back in, I’d lose myself again. That I’d build a life around someone who might leave when things got hard. I get it. But today, seeing you with her, hearing your plans, it reminded me why I loved you in the first place. Cole stepped closer.

 “And now I don’t know yet,” she said honestly. “But I want to find out with you. Not around you. With you,” his voice dropped. “Does that mean I can stay?” She took his hand. “It means you already have.” The sun returned on Tuesday, bright and warm, as if the rain had never touched the town.

 Asheville glowed the sidewalks drying under the golden light. The scent of fresh pastries once again floating out from Whitaker’s hearth. Rachel stood behind the counter, her hands dusted in flower cheeks pink from baking. The bell above the door chimed softly, and when she looked up, Cole was standing there with a wooden crate in his arms.

What is that?” she asked, wiping her hands on her apron. “A peace offering,” he said. “You already brought Blueprints emotional honesty and cobbler. I’d say you’ve overd delivered.” He grinned and set the crate down.

 Inside were jars of peach preserves, small sacks of cornmeal, and several vintage cookbooks from Grand May’s attic. Rachel raised an eyebrow. “You raided your grandmother’s pantry.” I organized it, he said, then realized half of it belonged in a community kitchen. Thought maybe you could feature a Grand May special once a week. Rachel touched the edge of one jar. She’d have liked that.

 I hope you do, too. I do. They shared a quiet moment, the kind that didn’t need words. Outside, Miles ran up the walkway backpack, bouncing a leaf crown tilted on his head like a little king of autumn. Guess what? He shouted as he burst inside. Miss Opel says I can help plant flowers at her place on Saturday. She said I got good soil sense.

 Rachel smiled. She’s not wrong. Miles noticed the crate and climbed onto a stool to peek inside. Is that for the cafe? It’s for all of us, Cole said. Community recipes. Maybe you can help me name one. Miles lit up. Can we call it Miles’s magical muffins? Rachel laughed. Only if they come with extra sprinkles.

 They were still laughing when the front door opened again. Brent stepped in slower this time. No clipboard, no mask of charm, just him in a gray jacket carrying a manila envelope. Rachel’s smile faded. Cole instinctively shifted closer to Miles, protective without needing to be. Brent offered a nod. Sorry to interrupt. I won’t stay long. Rachel wiped her hands again.

 What is it? He stepped forward and laid the envelope on the counter. Some final paperwork from the city council. Zoning discussion next week. You’ll want to be there. I already planned to,” she said calmly. Brent nodded, then looked at Cole. “You, too, I guess.” Cole met his gaze. Wouldn’t miss it. Brent’s eyes dropped for a second, then lifted.

 I heard about the community market proposal. It’s a good idea. Rachel blinked. You think so? I do. Brent’s voice was even. I wanted to beat him at something. I thought if I just stayed long enough, you’d come around. But you didn’t. And I think I’ve finally accepted that. Rachel softened. Brent. He raised a hand gently. It’s okay. Really, you don’t owe me anything.

 I just needed to say it out loud. Cole nodded a quiet respect passing between them. There was no friendship there, but maybe just maybe there was peace. Brent stepped back. Good luck with the muffins, kid. Miles waved. Thanks. When the door closed behind him, Rachel looked at Cole. Well, that was unexpected.

 Growth, Cole said with a smile. It happens. Rachel laughed and leaned her head briefly against his shoulder. I didn’t think this would feel real. Us. All of it. I didn’t think I deserved it. You didn’t? she teased, then nudged him. But you earned it. As the afternoon sun poured through the windows and the scent of cinnamon rose once more, Rachel pulled a clean order slip from the register, wrote across it in bold cursive, and pinned it on the corkboard.

 Coming soon Grand May’s Peach Muffins, a Whitaker Winslow original. Cole looked at it heartful, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel like he was trying to come home. He was home. The first frost of the season dusted the rooftops like powdered sugar the morning Cole walked into the town hall, meeting with Rachel at his side. It had been a quiet week, a good kind of quiet, the kind that let them fall into rhythm.

Shared breakfasts at the bakery before sunrise, miles dragging his backpack in a sleepy shuffle. small town greetings turning warmer each day. And every night after the last pie was boxed and the last chair stacked, Rachel would walk him to the porch and they’d talk in low tones until the stars came out.

 But tonight, things felt different, like the future was waiting on the other side of a vote. As they stepped into the hall, the room buzzed with anticipation. Rows of metal folding chairs, a long table where the town council sat with notepads and water bottles. Locals clustered in the back. Some curious, some skeptical. Rachel gripped Cole’s hand.

 “You ready?” she asked. “Nope,” he whispered. “But I’m here.” She smiled. Brent stood across the room speaking quietly with a council member. He spotted them, gave a nod, and didn’t look away. It wasn’t a challenge this time. It was something else. Respect. Mayor Lillian Green called the meeting to order.

 The minutes ticked by budget approval, sidewalk repairs, a new mural for the elementary school. Then came the development proposals. Next on the agenda, Lillian said, adjusting her glasses the Winslow Whitaker proposal for a multi-use community space on the old Caldwell lot. Cole rose. His palms were damp, but his voice didn’t shake. He laid out the plan accessible market stalls for locals, a learning kitchen co-run with the high school child care support for working parents, a way to bring opportunity without uprooting the people already here.

He didn’t use big city buzzwords, just stories. He told them about Miss Opel nearly being forgotten that rainy Monday, about Rachel’s late nights trying to keep the bakery afloat alone, about how a little boy named Miles drew his dream town with trees and a library and a doughnut shop where nobody was in a hurry.

 When he finished, the room was still. Rachel stood and added her voice, not as a business owner, but as someone born on this land. She spoke about legacy, about change that didn’t erase, about second chances and the courage it takes to give someone one. When they sat down, hands still intertwined, Lillian took a breath and said, “Let’s vote.” It passed unanimously.

Rachel turned to Cole, eyes brimming. “You did it.” He shook his head. We did. Tammy Lou clapped from the back row, mouththing finally. Brent gave a quiet nod. Even Miss Opel, perched in her shawl near the heater, wiped a tear. Later that night, on Grand May’s porch, Rachel wrapped herself in one of the old quilts and watched Cole stack kindling in the outdoor fire pit.

 He’d gotten the idea from one of Miles’s story books. A family fire, he’d called it. A place where people sit together. No screens, no distractions, just warmth and time. The first flames caught. Sparks flew upward like stars learning to rise. Rachel sipped hot cider, then spoke without looking at him. You didn’t ask me what I wanted after the vote.

 I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. She turned. I want to stay right here with me, with you, with this town, with the life we didn’t get to finish before. Cole sat beside her. You think we can only if we stop being afraid, it’ll fall apart. He looked at the fire. I’m not afraid anymore. She leaned in her voice near a whisper.

Then neither am I. The screen door creaked open behind them. Miles tiptoed out, dragging a blanket and a notebook. I’m writing a new story, he said. Rachel smiled. What’s it about a boy? Miles said, climbing into Cole’s lap. Who thought he didn’t have a dad? But it turned out his dad was just lost.

 And when he found his way back, they built a whole town together. Rachel’s breath caught. Cole held Miles a little tighter, and the fire crackled as if it knew this night was meant to last. The first snow came early that year, blanketing Asheville in a soft hush that made the whole town feel like it was holding its breath.

 The bakery windows fogged with warmth, while outside children built crooked snowmen, and couples strolled beneath wool scarves and holiday lights. Inside Whitaker’s hearth, the scent of ginger and clove wrapped around every customer who stepped through the door. Rachel moved through the shop with practiced grace, her laughter floating above the clatter of mugs and the thump of boots against the mat, but her eyes kept drifting to the clock.

Cole was late. They were supposed to meet for a planning meeting, final sketches, timeline, milestones, all the official markers of a dream becoming real. But the hour had passed quietly, and her phone remained silent on the counter. Tammy Lou popped her head out from the kitchen.

 You burning holes in that clock, girl? Rachel smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. He’s never late. Before Tammy could respond, the bell above the door jingled, and there he was. Cole stepped in, hair dusted with snowcarf wrapped loosely around his neck. But something in his expression made Rachel still. He walked straight to the counter and placed a folder in front of her.

 “What’s this?” she asked. He looked at her eyes tender and serious. “An offer for the Caldwell lot. She blinked. From another developer. He nodded. Rachel opened the folder slowly. The proposal was clean, polished, slick. Promises of upscale retail boutique apartments, a fitness center. Did they go around us? She asked.

No, Cole said quietly. They came to me yesterday. Said if I backed out now, they’d triple my original investment. The silence dropped heavy between them. Rachel closed the folder and I turned them down. Her breath caught. I told them this town doesn’t need more luxury. It needs roots, families, places like this, he said, sweeping a glance across the cafe. It needs you.

Rachel blinked, emotions rising fast. Why didn’t you just say that? Because I needed to know for myself. That I wasn’t chasing status again. that I wasn’t still the guy who walked away. He took a breath. I’m not. Her heart swelled. Tammy Lou watching from behind a tray of cookies mouthed kiss him already before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Rachel walked around the counter and stood in front of him. You didn’t have to prove anything. Yes, he said. I did. She reached up fingers gently touching his scarf, brushing away the snow that clung to his collar. Then you’ve proved it every day, every step. You’re not just here anymore, Cole. You’re with us. They didn’t kiss. Not yet.

 But they didn’t need to. That night, under the soft flicker of porch lights, Miles brought out a drawing he’d been working on. A new one. This is the festival plan, he announced, laying it across the table. We could call it the Winter Light Fair. There’s going to be a big tree and a cookie contest and music.

 Like real music, fiddles and bells and a guy with a beard who plays harmonica. Rachel leaned over the drawing. You’ve even marked food stalls. Grand May’s cobbler gets a whole tent, he said proudly. Cole grinned. Ambitious. I’m not done, Miles added. I want to ask Miss Opel to open it with a speech. And maybe we can plant a tree like a family tree, not the kind in books, a real one that grows.

 Rachel and Cole exchanged a glance, one of those deep wordless looks that said everything. Later that night, after Miles had gone to bed and Snow fell quietly against the windows, Rachel sat curled beside Cole on the couch, Grand May’s quilt wrapped around their legs. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a box worn at the edges, tied with a ribbon that had faded to the softest rose. “What’s this?” Cole asked. Rachel untied it slowly.

 Inside were the letters she’d written him, but never sent. One for every year he’d been gone. Some short, some angry, some filled with dreams she knew would never come true. “I was going to burn them,” she whispered. But something told me to hold on. He touched the top letter, his name written in careful loops. Can I read them? She shook her head.

 Not yet. He nodded, accepting. Then will you write me a new one. She smiled softly. It won’t fit in the box. Why not? Because this one doesn’t have an ending. The morning of the winter light fair dawned bright and gold like the town itself had been waiting for this moment. Snow dusted the edges of rooftops glittering under the low sun, and downtown Asheville buzzed with the quiet excitement of something real, something earned.

Rachel stood in the mirror, fastening a necklace. Nothing flashy, just a silver pendant that had belonged to Grandmai. It felt right. Today wasn’t just a celebration. It was a culmination. Outside, the scent of cinnamon rolls and pine needles drifted through the cold air.

 Wooden booths lined the square decorated with garlands and handmade signs painted by local school kids. Every detail, every wreath, every light had come from someone’s hands. Miles raced through the kitchen with a candy cane in one hand and a wrinkled flyer in the other. Mom. Mom. Miss Opel said I get to help light the tree tonight with a real switch like the mayor does.

 Rachel laughed, scooping him up. You’re the man of the hour, huh? He nodded proudly. She says, “I earned it.” Cole entered, buttoning his coat, eyes softening as he watched them. He did. We all did. Later that afternoon, the square was alive with music and color.

 Fiddle tunes floated through the air as neighbors mingled, old friends reunited, and strangers shared hot cider like family. Ms. Opel sat bundled in her shawl on a wooden bench near the stage, a proud smile never leaving her face. Cole stood near the edge of the crowd, looking out over the people, the boos, the glowing lights, and the tree. Rachel came to his side.

 You okay? I’ve built a lot of things, he said, but nothing ever felt this personal. She slipped her hand into his. That’s because it is personal. It’s not just blueprints. It’s a life. It’s ours. He looked down at her eyes shining. I think Grand May would have liked this. Rachel smiled. She would have been the first in line for a peach muffin.

 As night fell, the tree stood tall and proud in the center of the square. Handmade ornaments glimmered beneath twinkling lights. A hush fell over the crowd as Mayor Lillian stepped up to the microphone. We come together tonight not just to light a tree. She said her voice warm and clear, but to celebrate something more.

 A town that chooses roots over noise, people over profit, love over fear. She turned toward the tree. And no one represents that spirit more than the boy who reminded us what community looks like. Miles Whitaker. Miles stepped forward, red scarf, slightly crooked cheeks, pink with excitement. He reached for the switch. “You ready, bud?” Cole whispered, kneeling beside him. Miles nodded.

 “Can I say something first?” The mayor handed him the microphone. Rachel’s hand flew to her heart. Miles took a breath. My name is Miles and I live here with my mom and now with my dad, too. And we built this place cuz we wanted people to stay and love stuff and not run away when stuff gets hard.

 And Miss Opel says when you plant something, you got to stick around to water it. So, we’re going to stick around. Laughter, soft applause, and a few tears moved through the crowd. Now, I’m going to light the tree, he declared. He flipped the switch. A thousand lights burst into life. The crowd cheered and music swelled again as people clapped and embraced.

 Rachel pulled Miles into her arms and Cole wrapped them both up, holding them like they were the only three people in the world. An hour later, the crowd thinned and Snow began to fall again, light and slow like confetti drifting from heaven. Cole took Rachel’s hand and led her to the magnolia tree at the edge of the square. Beneath it, a small wooden bench had been placed. On it was a plaque for those who return and those who forgive.

Rachel touched the plaque with trembling fingers. You did this. We did together. From behind them, Miles appeared with a small carving tool and a look of focus. What’s that, sweetheart?” Rachel asked. “Grandme’s bench needs a name,” he said, kneeling at the base. He began to carve. The letters were wobbly, but true.

“Miles, Mom, Dad.” Rachel looked at Cole, eyes glistening. He leaned in his forehead, touching hers. “You still think this story doesn’t have an ending?” he whispered. She shook her head. No, I think it’s just the beginning. And as the snow fell and the town glowed their story, the one they thought they’d lost wrapped around them like the lights in the square. Warm, bright,

 

For decades, Dermot Murnaghan was a reassuring presence in living rooms across the UK — a calm, trusted voice who guided viewers through the biggest stories of our time. But now, the beloved broadcaster is facing his own most difficult story yet: a personal fight for survival

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His wife has tearfully revealed that Dermot, 67, is battling stage-four prostate cancer, and that doctors have told the family his time may be limited. The heartbreaking revelation has left fans, colleagues, and the television world united in grief and support.

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💬 “Chemotherapy Has Left Him Exhausted”

Speaking softly, Dermot’s wife described the toll the illness — and the treatment — has taken on him

“He tries to smile for us, but chemotherapy has left him exhausted. Some days he can’t even get out of bed. Seeing him so weak breaks my heart — this is a man who never stopped working, who always kept going no matter what.”

Despite the devastating diagnosis, those close to Dermot say he remains courageous and optimistic, continuing to show the same grace and dignity that defined his career.

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🕊️ “He’s Still the Man Who Brings Light”

Friends say that even in his weakest moments, Dermot’s humor and warmth still shine through.
“He refuses to give up,” one long-time colleague shared. “Even in the hospital, he asks the nurses how they are doing before mentioning himself. That’s just who he is — thoughtful, kind, and humble.”

His family, including his wife and children, have been by his side every step of the way. They’ve described spending quiet evenings together, holding his hand and reminiscing about the life they built — from newsroom chaos to family holidays by the sea.

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🙏 A Nation’s Heartbreak

As news of Dermot’s condition spread, fans flooded social media with emotional tributes and messages of support:

“He’s been part of our mornings for years. Sending love and strength.”
“Dermot, you’ve informed us, comforted us, and inspired us. Now we’re all with you.”

Gift

Colleagues from across the broadcasting world — from Sky News to the BBC — have also shared their admiration for his resilience, calling him “a true gentleman of journalism.”

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💖 A Legacy of Light

For those who grew up watching him on screen, Dermot Murnaghan is more than just a presenter — he’s a symbol of professionalism, compassion, and humanity. Even as his body grows weaker, his voice continues to echo through the hearts of millions.

His wife summed it up best:

“He may not have long left, but he still finds moments to smile. And in those moments, I see the same man I fell in love with — strong, funny, and full of life.”

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💔 As the nation keeps him in their thoughts, one message rings clear: Dermot Murnaghan may be fading from the screen, but he will never fade from our hearts.

The fallout from The Golden Bachelor is reportedly not about romance, but about money, with unconfirmed reports suggesting former contestant Cindy Cullers has secured a massive $2 Million Endorsement Deal, a figure that would make her FINANCIALLY SUPERIOR to the season’s star, Mel Owens, and cement her status as the true winner of the entire franchise.

While specific details and confirmation of a $2 million deal remain elusive, the claim aligns with the significant earning potential of popular Bachelor Nation contestants and highlights Mel’s own publicly documented financial woes.

Cindy’s Alleged Financial Supremacy

Cindy Cullers was a fan-favorite on the show, known for her vibrant personality and no-nonsense approach. In the post-show reality TV economy, contestants often earn far more from brand endorsements and social media deals than the lead earns for filming the show.

The Power of Influence: A $2 million endorsement deal would be one of the largest in Bachelor Nation history, showcasing Cindy’s massive market appeal. Even a fraction of that amount would likely dwarf the compensation Mel received for starring on the show, which is estimated to be in the six-figure range (around $100,000, but possibly higher due to his NFL background).

The “True Winner” Status: If Cindy’s reported deal is accurate, it not only gives her financial independence but puts her net worth on track to rapidly surpass Mel’s, confirming that the real prize in the franchise is social media stardom, not the final rose.

Mel’s $2.75M Assets vs. $1M Debt

The claim of Cindy’s financial superiority is amplified by the public knowledge of Mel Owens’ contentious and costly divorce:

Mel’s Assets: Court documents from his divorce revealed that Mel retained substantial assets, including his $2 million Orange County home, totaling over $2.75 million in value.

Mel’s Debt: However, he was also court-ordered to pay nearly $1 million to his ex-wife, Fabiana Pimentel, a debt he has allegedly failed to pay in full, leading to ongoing legal threats against his assets.

The contrast is stark: Mel, despite having high-value assets, is actively fighting a massive debt and struggling to meet a court-ordered financial obligation. Cindy, conversely, is reportedly liquidating her popularity into a massive, clear cash flow. This means that while Mel’s net worth is tied up in a contentious home and legal battles, Cindy could be commanding significant, clean, liquid income, making her the financially stable “Goliath” in this post-show landscape.

Ruby Wax has been a household name for decades and is currently starring on the latest series of I’m a Celebrity… Get Me Out of Here!.

 

Ruby Wax was forced to cancel her Edinburgh Fringe show after falling off a horse back in 2019 (Image: Getty)

Ruby Wax was forced to cancel one of her shows after sustaining “severe injuries” during a horse riding accident. The comedian, 72, who entered the Australian jungle last week for the new series of I’m A Celebrity, was a regular at Edinburgh Fringe Festival for years, and planned to perform Ruby Wax: How To Be Human at The Pleasance Grand in 2019.

However, the American actress suffered a serious back injury when she fell off her horse on holiday, forcing her to cancel the show. While details of her injury were not disclosed, the accident was serious enough for her to cancel her planned week of performances. At the time, the presenter admitted she was “hugely disappointed”, saying: “I’ve been coming to Edinburgh Fringe with my shows for over 30 years and always had the most amazing time.

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“I am hugely disappointed and so sorry to everyone who has bought tickets. My injuries are quite serious and I do need to take the time to heal and recover.”

In a separate statement, she added: “Sorry to everyone who bought tickets and I hope to see you soon. I’ll miss you x … Thank you all for all your kind messages and thoughts – you are helping me recover faster x.”

Ruby became a household name in the nineties when she launched her show, When Ruby Wax Met…, where she interviewed some of the world’s most famous stars, including Madonna, Pamela Anderson, Donald Trump, Hugh Hefner, and O.J Simpson.

Ruby has described her interview with the now-US president as being her “worst ever”, an encounter which took place on his private plane more than 25 years ago.

Ruby is currently starring on I’m A Celebrity (Image: ITV/Shutterstock)

Speaking on The Nightly Show, Ruby recalled: “[Trump] said he wanted to be the next president of the United States, so I started laughing. Who wouldn’t think that’s funny? So he said, ‘I’ve had enough of you. Land the plane.’ So he lands the plane, and now I’m with my crew in Arkansas. We weren’t heading for Arkansas!”

She added: “I would think we’re all scared he’s going to push the button, but not the nuke one, the one to send out another shite tweet.”

Ruby is the oldest contestant during this year’s series of I’m A Celebrity, which also features the likes of Kelly Brook, Lisa Riley, Martin Kemp and Jack Osbourne.

On joining the iconic show, Ruby joked: “I really don’t want to eat the food, I don’t want to sleep with snakes, and I will not be penetrated by a spider.”

A Place in the Sun fans thrilled as Jasmine Harman makes announcement

Jasmine is known for her role on the popular programme -Credit:Channel 4

A Place in the Sun fans ecstatic as Jasmine Harman drops major announcement and teases brand-new journey in Spain

A Place in the Sun favourite Jasmine Harman has sent fans into a frenzy after confirming a long-awaited update that viewers have been asking her about for months.

Jasmine, 48, who has become one of the most recognisable faces of the hit Channel 4 property show, regularly shares behind-the-scenes glimpses with her 165,000 Instagram followers. But her latest post on Monday, April 29 was different — it finally cleared up the single question fans have repeatedly flooded her inbox with.

And the answer did not disappoint.

Jasmine teases fresh episode filmed in sunny Alicante

In her announcement, Jasmine revealed that a brand-new episode — filmed in Alicante, Spain — would not only air today but would officially launch an entirely new series of A Place in the Sun.

The episode features hopeful buyers Heidi and Keith, who embark on their dream search for the perfect holiday home in the Spanish sunshine. With a generous £170,000 budget, Jasmine guides the pair through several potential homes, each offering a different slice of Mediterranean life.

Sharing preview images from the filming location, Jasmine teased:
“Exciting! Brand new series of APITS starts today on @channel4 at 3pm.
So many people have been asking, and the wait is over!”

She then added a playful question to fans:
“What do you think about the value for money I showed them?”

Fans rush to celebrate the announcement

It didn’t take long for loyal viewers to flood the comments section with joy and relief that the show is officially back on screens.

“Brilliant news!” Claire cheered.

George added: “I will look forward to watching it this afternoon.”

Others simply sent love, sunshine emojis and warm messages, with Gary writing: “Happy Monday Jasmine!”

The excitement highlights just how strong the show’s fanbase remains — even after more than two decades on air.

A fresh chapter for a beloved property series

A Place in the Sun continues to attract viewers who dream of swapping grey skies for Mediterranean sunsets. Jasmine’s enthusiasm, warmth, and ability to instantly connect with house-hunters has long made her a standout presenter.

Her announcement marks the beginning of another season filled with coastal villas, sun-drenched terraces, emotional decisions and life-changing moments for British buyers chasing the dream of a home abroad.

A Place in the Sun airs weekdays at 3pm on Channel 4 and is available to watch via All 4.

Married couple Dick and Angel Strawbridge have shared an emotional announcement about their marriage.

Escape to the Chateau stars Dick and Angel Strawbridge have been supported by fans after they shared a major marriage announcement.

The cherished couple shot to fame on their popular Channel 4 series Escape to the Chateau back in 2016. The show followed the renovation of their lush French chateau and the special events business that they ran there.

Away from the show, that concluded in 2022, Dick and Angel are parents to two youngsters: 12 year old Arthur and Dorothy, aged 11.

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And this week, the pair marked a huge milestone, after Dick and Angel celebrated 10 years of being married.

On Friday (November 14) the pair took to their Instagram and shared a slew of snaps from their romance, including photos from their special day.

In the caption, they wrote: “A huge hello to you on this Fabulous Friday and thank you for all the incredible messages we received yesterday… we were completely blown away!”

We spent a glorious day wandering around Rennes, reminiscing about our wedding, chatting about the children, family, friends, and all the beautiful chaos that led up to the big day.

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We laughed, we cried (happy tears, of course!), and felt so blessed.”

The couple went on: “It’s hard to believe that 15 years ago today, we sat across a table and instantly fell in love (see the photo of ‘that’ moment with our friend Will being the gooseberry!).

“From that moment on, we’ve been inseparable and what an adventure it’s been. Last night, we wrapped up the day with dinner at Cafe Grandmas, raising a simple toast: ‘To the best 15 years of our lives.’

To all of you who’ve shared this journey with us, thank you for the love, support, and memories along the way. Here’s to love, laughter, and the next chapter! Have a great weekend!”

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Fans soon rushed to the comments section to send their well-wishes to the couple. One person said: “Happy Anniversary to you both, how wonderful to look back at all the amazing memories.”

Another wrote: “Happy Anniversary congratulations the joy that is seen in the pictures is felt. Stawbridges you make our hearts feel good!” A third chimed in: “Precious moments.”

I’m A Celebrity star Tom Read Wilson slammed by viewers over ‘annoying’ behaviour in camp

There’s plenty of love for Tom too!

I’m A Celebrity star Tom Read Wilson came under fire from viewers on tonight’s show (Friday, November 21) thanks to his antics in camp.

The Celebs Go Dating star, 39, sang, recited some Shakespeare, and did a bit of dancing, all within the first few minutes of the show!
Tom entertained campmates in the morning (Credit: ITV)

I’m A Celebrity star Tom Read Wilson entertains campmates

Tonight’s episode of I’m A Celebrity kicked off with a bit of Shakespeare, courtesy of Tom

After complaining about his bed (which, remember, is one of the comfier ones in camp) and his lack of sleep, Tom headed down to the creek for a wash.

The star was accompanied by Vogue and Ruby Wax – and Tom felt like it was the perfect time to recite a sonnet to American star Ruby.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” he said, wooing Ruby as they sat by the creek. Meanwhile, Vogue just stood there, awkwardly watching.
Tom recited a sonnet, sang, and danced in camp (Credit: ITV)

Tom tapdances and wooes Ruby

Speaking in the Bush Telegraph later, Ruby was seemingly baffled by Tom.

“I don’t know what land he comes from,” the comedian joked.

Later, as he had a wash in the creek, Tom sang, so loudly in fact that his fellow celebs could hear him from camp.

Turning on the charm later in the hope of impressing the camp leaders, Lisa Riley attempted to woo Tom, praising his posture, likening him to former Strictly star Darcey Bussell.

In response, Tom decided to treat his campmates to some tap dancing, much to their delight.
Fans were loving Tom, but some weren’t (Credit: ITV)

Tom’s behaviour divides fans

It’s safe to say that Tom’s behaviour in camp divided viewers.

Some fans have quickly tired of the star. Taking to X, some viewers slammed the TV personality.

“Tom does my head in,” one viewer said.

“Tom read-wilson is one annoying [bleep]. Who is he and why is he acting like this. He’s so annoying I wanna turn it over. Surely I’m not the only one….,” another fumed.

A third added: “Oh my god the way Tom talks is driving me crazy!!!”

However, there was plenty of love for Tom!

“I thought Tom would annoy me but he’s actually quite sweet,” one fan tweeted.

“There was me thinking Tom was going to irritate me, but I’m really enjoying him. FeeIng bad that I prejudged him because of his voice,” another said.

“I would LOVE to be friends with Tom. What a breath of fresh air,” a third wrote.

“Tom is fab. There’s so much to him. It shows some people will always suspicious of someone who is different,” another said.

Kelly Brook has clashed with Jack Osbourne on I’m A Celebrity (Image: ITV)

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I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! is returning tonight for more laughs and creepy crawlies. Viewers will get to tune into another Bushtucker trial as Ant and Dec announced Eddie Kadi had been voted by the public for tonight’s underwater-based A-Scare-ium trial.

In a preview for the nail-biting challenge, the TV funnyman is seen screaming as everything goes horribly wrong. But ITV viewers will have to watch Wednesday’s episode to find out how how the comedian will fare in his first ever trial.

His pal Babatunde Alishe previously told The Sun that Eddie would quit any trial he was given within just a few minutes. “Eddie confessed to me how scared he is of the whole experience and I was shocked,” the former campmate told the publication.

He added, “I’m scared of frogs, snakes, spiders and thought Eddie was the brave one, but he confessed to me that he’s really, really scared of ALL the things.

“I’m going to be as surprised as everybody else about how he’s going to react to things.”

Meanwhile, tensions have boiled over in camp as a feud between Kelly Brook and Jack Osbourne is brewing.

I’m A Celebrity… Get Me Out Of Here! airs tonight on ITV at 9pm

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9 hours ago00:08 Michelle Marshall

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I’m A Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! returns tomorrow at 9pm on ITV and ITVX.

11 hours ago22:52 Michelle Marshall

Inside Martin Kemp’s heartbreaking health woes

He explained his dyslexia was a result of an operation. Martin explained doctors discovered he had two brain tumours in 1995.

“I was making a show in Canada and I was playing this professor,” he mused. “I went into makeup one day and I had to put on this bald cap and as they pulled it off the whole of the makeup department went quiet because you could see this lump.”

Martin said he had the tumours for 12 years and they were both still growing but due to a lack of space began to embed itself in the bone of his skull.

He shared: “Within two days I was having my head cut open. When they scanned it they found another [tumour] hidden in the middle. The one in the middle was the dangerous one.

Martin continued: “They cut me… they zapped me with stereotactic radiation … For a while I lost everything, I couldn’t walk, I couldn’t see in one eye, I was a train wreck afterwards.”

One of the side effects as a result of having surgery was his dyslexia diagnosis – where he struggled to read. He admitted it was “terrifying” adding, “I thought I was dying.”

11 hours ago22:28 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Two new arrivals revealed

Tonight, it was confirmed that TV presenter Vogue Williams and Celebs Go Dating star Tom Read Wilson were heading into the jungle during tomorrow night’s show.

The pair will be Chief Explorers, and more about what they have to do will be explained in Thursday’s show.

Vogue Williams will enter the jungle as a late comer (Image: ITV)

Tom Read Wilson will also join the campmates in tomorrow’s episode (Image: ITV)

11 hours ago22:22 Emmanuella Ngimbi

It’s all three of you!

Ant and Dec returned to the camp to reveal which stars would take on Camp Fright.

After they revealed Aitch, Ginge and Kelly could take on the challenge and left them on the edge of their seats, they confirmed: “It’s all three of you!”

The presenting duo also told the campmates that they will head down to watch them undergo the trial.

Angry Ginge will take on the upcoming trial (Image: ITV)

11 hours ago22:12 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Dinner turns stomachs

Kelly was left gagging as she attempted to cook eel for dinner. She admitted: “I can’t do it,” leaving it to Jack, who skinned, gutted and filleted the fish.

The stomach churning task left the model almost vomiting as she ran away coughing and wreching.

Kelly Brook in camp (Image: ITV)

11 hours ago22:04 Michelle Marshall

Martin Kemp opens up on ‘jaw-dropping’ health struggle

I’m A Celeb star Martin Kemp revealed to the campmates that he is dyslexia following an operation. Sitting around the campfire, Martin, 64, said he believed he was dying after he suffered two brain tumours.

He explained that whenever he reads the words are all jumbled around in a candid admission.

12 hours ago21:54 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Lisa and Jack get candid

Lisa Riley and Jack Osbourne shared an honest conversation about their sobriety journey.

The Emmerdale star revealed that she would have “three bottles a night” before flying to New York to undergo treatment. She admitted that rehab was “fascinating” and shared that she decided to head to the USA to be away from the spotlight and the potential leaks about her sobriety journey.

Jack, who has also been sober since he was 17, admitted that addiction is a trauma response, to which Lisa agreed and attributed her addiction to her mum’s devastating d3ath.

Lisa Riley shared about her sobriety (Image: ITV)

12 hours ago21:48 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Six is better than five

Eddie made an emotional return to camp and admitted he was “disappointed” by only bringing back six stars.

Although he was consoled by his campmates, the comedian was still heartbroken by not getting all the stars.

In a bid to cheer him up, Jack Osbourne remarked: “Six is better than five.”

12 hours ago21:41 Emmanuella Ngimbi

C’mon Eddie

With just 30 seconds left, Eddie was able to grab one more key and unlock a chest despite losing a number of keys at the bottom on the tank.

Despite being surrounded by animals, he was able to gain six stars out of a possible 9.

Eddie took on the tense trial (Image: ITV )

12 hours ago21:37 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Oh No!!

The underwater A-Scare-ium trial took an unexpected turn as Eddie dropped two keys.

Ant and Dec were disappointed for the comedian, as Ant remarked: “It’s like watching your favourite team lose on penalties.

Ant and Dec were disappointed for Eddie (Image: ITV)

12 hours ago21:35 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Eddie takes on the A-Scare-ium

Eddie’s taking on the A-Scare-ium trial took a nail-biting start as he was joined by crocodiles and snakes.

He was tasked with grabbing the keys and going underwater to match it with the chest to grab a star

Eddie Kadi taking on the underwater trial (Image: ITV)

12 hours ago21:34 Michelle Marshall

Fans gush over Kelly Brook

Three of I’m A Celebrity’s female campmates stripped off for a dip in the creek – before the moment was thrown into chaos by leeches.

Shona McGarty, Kelly Brook and Alex Scott screamed as they spotted the bloodsucking parasites in the corner of the pool.

Kelly convinced Alex and Shona to get in the water but disaster struck.

They quickly jumped out of the water to spare themselves from being bitten – with Shona slipping on her backside in a panic.

After Kelly stripped down to her swimsuit for a quick dip and fans all said the same thing about the model, 45.

One X user gsuhed: “Kelly Brook take a bow girl.” Another echoed: “Kelly Brook in that swimsuit.” A thid added: “Not to be dramatic but I genuinely think Kelly Brook has the most perfect figure you could wish for #imaceleb.”

Kelly Brook took a dip in the creek (Image: ITV)

Shona McGarty slipped on her back in a panic (Image: ITV)

12 hours ago21:27 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Alex Scott lifts the lid on passion

Alex Scott opened up about her relationship with her girlfriend, Jess Glyne, during a candid conversation with the ladies.

She admitted it “different with women” and shared that there is “a deeper and emotional connection … so sex was more passionate.”

The couple have been together for over two years but they have kept the details of their relationship private.

Alex and Jess have been an item for over two years (Image: Getty)

12 hours ago21:19 Michelle Marshall

Oops!

It was Ruby Wax’s turn to mess up the breakfast – she’s burned the rice and beans so badly that Eddie has said it’s like “eating a rock”.

She was later seen trying to bury food in the camp so rats don’t find it.

12 hours ago21:18 Emmanuella Ngimbi

Burnt rice sparks chaos

The campmates were left disgusted by their first meal of the day after Ruby burnt the rice.

Disgusted by breakfast, Eddie Kadi joked that it was “hard as a rock,” while Lisa Riley remarked: “That was rotten!”

As Aitch and Angry Ginge tried to get to the bottom of how she burnt the food, Ruby admitted: “I didn’t know somebody wasn’t going to take it off”

Lisa Riley was disgusted by the rice (Image: YouTube )

12 hours ago21:11 Emmanuella Ngimbi

I’m A Celeb kicks off with a fiery start

I’m A Celebrity started with Ruby Wax shouting: “Oh s**t” as the campfire went out.

The TV host admitted it was her responsibility to keep the fire lit and was able to relight it.

Jack Osbourne, who had been watching from his comfortable bed, admitted he felt like a “proud father” after lighting the campfire for three days.

Ruby Wax wafting the fire (Image: YouTube)

13 hours ago20:31 Michelle Marshall

Just 30 minutes until showtime…

We’re gearing up for the latest episode of I’m A Celeb so join us live from inside your homes.

13 hours ago20:20 Michelle Marshall

Eddie Kadi to take on next Bushtucker trial

The comedian looked to have cracked under the pressure while taking on tonight’s Bushtucker trial.

In a preview for the nail-biting challenge, Eddie is heard screaming, “I’ve lost the key, I’ve lost the key. Oh my god,” while underwater.

Ant and Dec attempt to reassure the comic during the tense moments.

Eddie Kadi almost panicked during the trial (Image: ITV)

14 hours ago19:50 Michelle Marshall

One show star was forced to ‘end talks’

Jack Osbourne previously revealed he was a late addition to the main line-up. The reality star was reportedly a last-minute sign up.

It has since been said it was boxer Conor Benn who was in the frame to be on the ITV reality show but was replaced as he had to pull out of show talks.

A sourced told The Sun: “Conor was really keen to make it work, but in the end, it just wasn’t logistically viable for him to do the big match on Saturday night, and then leave for Australia the next day.

“In theory, he could have done it, if he had gone in as one of the late arrivals, but given how boxing matches are unpredictable, if he had been injured he wouldn’t have been able to fly.”

They added: “Neither ITV nor Conor could take that risk in the end, but the door is certainly open for the future.”

Boxer Conor Benn was reportedly replaced in a last minute shake up (Image: Getty)

14 hours ago19:01 Michelle Marshall

Vogue Williams shares reason for signing up

Vogue’s jungle appearance will reportedly be teased at the end of tonight’s episode. She has since shared her reasons for signing up to the programme.

She told The Mirror: “I am too comfortable in life. I sleep with four pillows in my bed just for me.

“I think you have to push yourself out of your comfort zone, particularly when I turned 40. I was getting kind of stuck in my ways a little bit.”

15 hours ago18:30 Michelle Marshall

Who are the I’m A Celebrity 2025 late arrivals?

Here are the two new confirmed campmates for the 2025 series:

Vogue Williams

Following in her husband Spencer’s footsteps the Irish media personality, model, and presenter is set to enter the jungle Down Under. She has made appearances on Australia’s Dancing with the Stars and Bear Grylls’ Mission Survive in 2015, also landing hosting segments on daytime TV shows like Lorraine.

Now, the 39-year-old – who shares three children with her former Made in Chelsea husband – co-hosts the My Therapist Ghosted Me podcast with comedian Joanne McNally as well as Spencer & Vogue.

Tom Read Wilson

The British TV personality, who began his career in musical productions, auditioned for The Voice UK in 2016. He is most well-known for his role as the linguistic loving Agony Uncle on reality show Celebs Go Dating.

Vogue Williams is headed to the jungle (Image: Getty)

Tom Read Wilson is a late I’m A Celeb arrival (Image: Getty)

15 hours ago18:10 Michelle Marshall

Ruby Wax pulled out of trial on medical grounds

I’m A Celeb fans were unable to vote for Ruby Wax for Wednesday night’s trial as Ant and Dec later confirmed she was exempt on medical grounds.

The show contestant was forced to pull out of the trial altogether.

16 hours ago17:58 Michelle Marshall

I’m A Celebrity’s record-breaking win as ITV makes history

I’m Celebrity…Get Me Out Of Here! launch is the most streamed in the show’s history with the new series achieving 12.3 million streams in its first three episodes.

The figures mark a 28% year on year increase for the show, which achieved its most streamed launch in series history.

I’m A Celeb accrued an 83% share of 16-34 year olds, an uplift of 9% in comparison to the 2024 series.

The current series’ launch episode gave ITVX its best performing day since July this year, and the full I’m A Celebrity ITVX collection recently surpassed 400 million streams.

16 hours ago17:15 Michelle Marshall

Kelly Brook sparks ‘potato-gate’ row with Jack Osbourne

Kelly Brook appears embroiled in a feud with Jack Osbourne. On Monday night, the model was told off for how she was cutting the potatoes by camp chef Jack.

In the so-called “potato-gate row” the Loose Women panellist admitted she was feeling a bit lost and added she just wanted to be helpful.

It resulted in Jack taking a step back from cooking and chores. He then delegated Alex Scott and Shona McGarty to do the cooking.

Speaking privately to Alex and Shona about their appointed roles from Jack, Kelly took a swipe, saying: “So he’s not in charge but then he’s in charge of everything, choosing who’s gonna be in charge…”

Alex laughed saying: “I don’t think anyone asked him to delegate but he did.”

Shona added: “I don’t think Jack wanted to let go.”

I’m A Celeb star Jack Osbourne has been delegating duties (Image: ITV)

British vigilantes slash small migrant boats on French coastline

Britons have been filming themselves travelling to beaches in France and ‘destroying’ small boats – gaining thousands of views in the process

British history books

Sanya Burgess is an award-winning journalist whose investigations have included revealing Deliveroo was not paying the living wage to all riders, despite the company’s pledge to do so. She has also tracked disinformation and far right hate speech in the UK during the Southport riots, conspiracy theories about the attempted shooting of Donald Trump and revealed that Elon Musk was paying some of Tommy Robinson’s legal fees. She has also worked on issues relating to Big Tech and underage gambling, as well as uncovering war crimes and human rights abuses in Iran, Myanmar and the UAE – including the ‘hostage’ tapes of the detained Dubai Princess Latifa.
 

British vigilantes who spearheaded efforts to fly England flags across the country have launched a new anti-migrant protest – attempting to block illegal Channel crossings.

Using the term “Operation Stop The Boats”, members of the group have been filming themselves slashing small boats before they are used by migrants to cross the English Channel from France.
Migration consulting services
Posts on social media show members calling for other British men to join them in France, including making a direct appeal to football hooligans, saying “we need to make a stand”.

In one video message shared this week by a member of the Raise the Colours group – the grassroots movement that has seen flags fixed to lampposts, motorway bridges and roundabouts across England – two men are seen evoking military language and the spirit of the British fight against the Nazis in the Second World War.

Claiming to be recording from the northern French coast, one said: “Just like in the 1940s, we must take a stand, and it starts with the men of England and Britain.”

Making an appeal to “firms” – a phrase that refers to football hooligan groups – the other man added: “Our country is doing nothing. Weak government, weaker borders.

“They are doing nothing, so we need to make a stand, boys. Get the lads together, get your firms together, get the lads in the pub, get the lads down the bars, if you’re talking about it and you agree with what we are doing, give us a hand.”
French cuisine recipes
The Government is under pressure to act after more than 36,000 people have crossed the English Channel in small boats (Photo: raisethecolours.org.uk/Instagram)
The Government is under pressure to tackle the issue of migration amid a record number of asylum applications, surging small boat crossings and protests at hotels housing asylum seekers.

On Monday, Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood set out a package of reforms to asylum policies aimed at tackling illegal migration, telling MPs the current situation is “out of control and unfair”.

The latest videos shared by those linked to the Raise the Colours group have separately been referred to as “Operation Overlord”.

Earlier clips showed two men saying they were taking matters of illegal migration into their own hands and filming themselves stamping on and smashing a small boat’s engine.

In the clips, they refer to themselves as “patriots” and make a number of claims without evidence, such as that they are stopping “rapists and murderers” from “coming to a town near you”.
One video shared by the group (Photo: raisethecolours.org.uk/nstagram)
The flag-raising group, who have a combined 100,000 followers on X and Instagram, also posted a plea on X for donations last week, writing that they are: “STOPPING The Boats, whether the migrants or government like it or not!”
Migration consulting services
Two videos from the group have recently been shared to the 1.7 million X followers of Tommy Robinson. The far-right figure and former leader of the English Defence League, whose real name is Stephen Yaxley-Lennon, has previously been accused of mobilising football hooligan firms in an attempt to launch anti-Muslim rallies across the country.

Separately, French media reports that the Dunkirk Public Prosecutor’s office has opened a preliminary investigation into “aggravated violence” against migrants by suspected British far-right figures.

One of the details being examined by the French prosecutor is the claim that in September, four men waving British and UK flags verbally and physically attacked migrants on the French coast. It is alleged that they told the migrants they were not welcome in England and proceeded to steal some of their belongings.

The men are not the first anti-migrant figures to travel to France in a bid to take matters into their own hands.
French cuisine recipes

In September, Ukip, Nigel Farage’s former political party, posted a video to their X account showing what appeared to be sleeping migrants in France being woken by people flashing strobe lights in their faces and shouting at them.

Nick Tenconi, Ukip’s current leader, also posted a video captioned: “In Calais hunting for illegal invaders trying to cross into Britain.”
British history books
The Home Office and French authorities were contacted for comment.

Kelly came under fire again

I’m A Celebrity fans urged Kelly Brook to “read the room” after she “trampled” over Jack Osbourne’s emotional moment on tonight’s show (Sunday, November 23).

Kelly celebrated her 46th birthday today, but viewers weren’t keen on sending her birthday wishes tonight!
Jack opened up on the show (Credit: ITV)

Jack Osbourne emotionally opens up on I’m A Celebrity

During tonight’s edition of the show, Jack emotionally opened up, explaining why he cried yesterday (Saturday, November 22).

Yesterday marked four months since his father, Black Sabbath frontman Ozzy, passed away.

Ozzy was 76 years old when he died back in July.

Speaking to his campmates, Jack said: “Yesterday was a bit of a delicate day for me…I was doing ok, and then I realised it was the four months since my dad died.

Tearing up, Jack continued, saying: “Had a good cry with Eddie…but ultimately I’m happy, I’m really happy I’m here.”

 

 

Jack then promised Angry Ginge that the YouTuber wouldn’t have to watch him cry again.

Cuddling his campmate, Ginge said, “Men cry too”.
It’s Kelly’s birthday today (Credit: ITV)

I’m A Celebrity star Kelly Brook celebrates her birthday

The conversation then moved on to…birthdays.

Kelly was quick to remind her campmates that it’s her birthday “tomorrow”.

“Oh my god! It’s my birthday tomorrow,” she said.

However, Jack quickly reminded her of the date, meaning her birthday is…today!

“It’s my birthday!” Kelly squealed as her campmates cheered and celebrated with her.

 

 

Speaking in the Bush Telegraph later, Kelly said, “I honestly thought it was tomorrow! Jack even had to figure out when my birthday was, is there nothing this guy can’t do?! How am I gonna navigate life without him!”

Later in the show, the celebs celebrated Kelly’s birthday by giving her a handmade cake.
I’m A Celebrity star Kelly Brook came under fire (Credit: ITV)

Fans slam Kelly

However, rather than send Kelly their best birthday wishes, viewers took to social media to slam the star. They argued that the star hadn’t “read the room” after Jack’s emotional confession and should have waited before making the conversation about her birthday. Others accused the star of wanting to be the centre of attention.

“Jack: It’s been 4 months since my dad died… Kelly: IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!!! Talk about reading the room!” one fan tweeted.

 

 

“#ImACelebrity and it’s the Kelly show again. Why is she always bloody shouting?” another asked. 

“Kelly talking about her birthday after Jack had an emotional moment,” a third said, sharing a gif of a child rolling her eyes.

“Couldn’t Kelly mention her birthday a bit later?” another wrote. “Lol, Jack talks about how his dad passed away 4 months ago, but Kelly has to announce her birthday,” a fifth said.

“Oh wow, Kelly trampling all over Jack’s moment by making it all about her,” another added.

 

 

However, there was some support for the star. “Not gonna lie, I genuinely think Kelly is misunderstood …. really like her,” one fan said. “Am I the only one who likes Kelly Brook? She’s not as bad as people are making her out to be. She’s doing well!” another said.

“Happy birthday Kelly,” a third wrote.

I’m A Celebrity continues tomorrow (Monday, November 24) at 9pm on ITV1 and ITVX.