𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐈’𝐦 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 | 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫.

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𝐘/𝐍’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I hadn’t seen or heard from Scarlett in over a day.

She had asked for space, and I wanted to respect that, even though every fiber of my being wanted to show up at her door, wrap my arms around her, and tell her that nothing—absolutely nothing—would change how much I loved her.

But I knew that wasn’t what she needed right now. So instead of spiraling, I did what I had to do.

And that’s how I found myself back at Madelyn’s apartment, sitting at her kitchen table, my fingers drumming idly against the wood as she paced the floor in front of me, looking like she was about three seconds away from combusting.

“We need to talk about logistics,” I say finally, breaking the silence.

Madelyn stops pacing, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. “Logistics.”

“Yeah.” I lean back in my chair, rubbing my hands together. “Look, we need to figure out what this is gonna look like. How we do this. Because this—” I gesture vaguely between us. “—this is big, Madz. And we can’t just wing it.”

Madelyn exhales, dragging her hands through her hair. “I know. I just… I don’t even know where to start.”

I nod, trying to keep my voice steady, calm. “Okay. Let’s take it one step at a time.” I grab my phone, opening the notes app, and type out a quick list. “First thing’s first—are you planning on staying in L.A.?”

Madelyn bites her lip, hesitating. “I don’t know, you know I primarily stay in SC.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Madz, that’s kinda important.”

She sighs, pulling out the chair across from me and sinking into it. “I was supposed to start working on a new project soon, overseas. But obviously, that’s… complicated now.”

I nod slowly. “Okay. So, are you thinking about staying here long-term?”

She chews on the inside of her cheek. “I think I have to.”

I tap my fingers against my phone. “Alright. That helps.”

She lets out a weak laugh. “Does it?”

I smirk. “More than you think.” A small, tired smile tugs at her lips, but it fades just as quickly as it appeared. She leans forward, resting her chin in her hand. “What about you? How involved do you… want to be?”

I exhale, leaning back in my chair. “Madelyn, I am involved. This isn’t optional for me. I’m in this with you. It takes two to make a baby.”

She studies my face for a long moment. “Are you sure?”

I meet her gaze. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t, I’m no deadbeat.” Something in her posture relaxes, like she’s been holding in a breath this whole time. “Okay.”

I nod. “We’re gonna figure this out.” She gives me a small, hesitant smile. “One day at a time?”

I smirk. “One day at a time.”

She takes a deep breath. “Alright. Let’s talk about doctors, appointments, all that fun stuff.”

I nod, typing notes as she speaks. And for the first time since this whole thing started, I feel like maybe—just maybe—we can handle this.

But in the back of my mind, there’s still one thing weighing on me. Scarlett.

I haven’t spoken to her since I told her the truth. And as much as I want to give her space, I know I can’t keep waiting forever. Because this?

This is only the beginning. And she needs to be part of it, or I hope she will be, I love her.

.  .  .

I’m standing in Scarlett’s bathroom, adjusting the collar of my shirt in the mirror, when I hear her voice behind me. “You don’t have to do that,” she mutters.

I meet her eyes in the mirror. She’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, her face unreadable. “Do what?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.

“Look like you’re walking into a death sentence.” I exhale, dropping my hands. “Scar, we haven’t talked since—” I hesitate. “Since the other night.”

Scarlett shifts slightly, but her expression doesn’t change. “We don’t have to talk about it right now,” she says. “We made a promise to Chris and Alba, so let’s just… put everything aside for tonight.”

Right. Like that’s gonna be possible. But I nod anyway, because what else am I supposed to do? “Okay.”

Scarlett studies me for a second longer before stepping inside the bathroom. She turns on the sink, letting the water run as she adjusts her earrings. She looks stunning—hair in soft waves, wearing one of those simple-yet-unfairly-attractive outfits that make my brain short-circuit.

And the worst part?

I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell her she looks beautiful. Not right now. Not after everything.

“You’re staring,” she says, her voice clipped. I blink, looking away. “I was just—”

“Don’t,” she cuts me off, her tone sharp. I nod slowly. Alright then.

We finish getting ready in silence. Scarlett fixes her lipstick. I check my phone, avoiding the urge to text Dylan for moral support. When we finally head downstairs, the car is already waiting outside. Scarlett slides in first, and I follow, the tension so thick I swear it could smother me.

Neither of us say a word the entire ride.

.  .  .

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The drive is painfully quiet. Y/n’s fingers drum against her knee while I scroll absently through my phone, pretending I’m not thinking about the fact that the last time we had dinner with Chris and Alba, I wasn’t questioning everything.

But it was a mistake to think I could compartmentalize this.

Because every time I glance at Y/n, every time I watch her grip the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart, every time she glances at me like she’s waiting for the moment I finally break—

I feel the tension wrapping around my ribs like a vice.

She pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. Neither of us move.

If there was ever an evening that deserved a stiff drink, it was this one.

I dab on a final layer of lipstick, taking a deep breath before glancing at my reflection. I can do this.

Chris and Alba had planned this dinner weeks ago, and no matter how much I really wanted to skip it after everything that happened, I couldn’t. They were my best friends. And I wasn’t about to let Y/n’s… situation ruin that.

“We don’t have to do this,” she finally says, voice careful.

I arch a brow. “Do what?”

“Pretend everything is fine.”

I let out a dry laugh. “Oh, my love. I’m not pretending.” I grab my perfume and spritz it lightly on my wrists. “Everything is absolutely fantastic.”

Y/n exhales through her nose. “Scarlett—”

I unlock the car door, fixing her with a look. “You were the one who said we’d figure this out, right?” I tilt my head. “That we’d take it one day at a time?”

Y/n presses her lips together.

“Well,” I say, staring at her. “Today’s not about us. It’s about Chris and Alba. So let’s act like normal people for one damn night, yeah?”

Y/n doesn’t argue. Before Y/n can say anything, I’m already stepping out of the car. The front door swings open before I can knock.

Chris stands there, grinning like an idiot. “There they are!” He gestures dramatically. “The power couple of the century!”

Alba steps beside him, rolling her eyes. “Ignore him. He’s already two glasses in.”

“Two and a half,” Chris corrects, winking. I let out a short laugh, stepping inside. “You have a problem.”

“Yeah,” he smirks. “And my problem is that I don’t see you two enough.” Y/n shakes her head. “Chris, I saw you literally last week.”

Chris squints. “Still too long.” Alba sighs, linking her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s eat before Chris drinks all the wine.”

Chris scoffs. “First of all, rude. Second of all, accurate.”

.  .  .

The four of us sit around the dining table, laughter filling the space. The food is incredible, as expected—Alba always overachieves with dinner parties. For the first half of the meal, it’s almost normal.

Chris and Y/n argue over some dumb football stat, Alba and I exchange knowing glances, and for a few fleeting moments, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we can actually get through this dinner without incident.

But then— “So,” Chris says, spearing a piece of steak with his fork. “What’s new with you guys?”

I feel Y/n tense beside me. I keep my expression neutral, sipping my wine. Y/n clears her throat. “Uh, not much. Just work, the usual.”

Chris hums. “Work, huh?” He tilts his head. “Nothing else going on?” Alba shoots him a look. “Chris.”

“What?” Chris gestures vaguely between us. “I’m just saying, they’re acting weird. I notice things.” Alba sighs. “Chris—”

“No, no, no.” Chris points his fork. “Y/n’s been distracted lately. Not texting back as fast. Not showing up to stuff. She’s got that look.”

I tilt my head. “What look?” Chris smirks. “The I’m hiding something look.”

Y/n lets out a dry laugh. “Chris, you’re paranoid.” Chris shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re keeping secrets.”

Y/n shoots me a quick glance, like she’s silently pleading with me to keep my mouth shut. I give her an innocent smile. Chris narrows his eyes. “What am I missing?”

Y/n shakes her head. “Nothing, dude. Seriously—”

“Oh, she’s definitely hiding something,” I say casually, picking up my wine glass. Y/n freezes.

Chris perks up. “Scarlett, spill.” I swirl my wine lazily, drawing out the moment.

Y/n glares at me. “Don’t.” Chris leans forward eagerly. “Scar, please.”

I sigh dramatically, setting my glass down. “Oh, it’s nothing major.” Y/n shifts uncomfortably beside me.

Chris watches the exchange, eyes flicking between us. “Guys.” I exhale, feigning reluctance. “Wouldn’t be this way if you weren’t having a baby by another woman.”

I stab a bite of food with my fork and pop it into my mouth. Silence.

Chris stops mid-chew. Alba’s glass pauses halfway to her lips.

Chris’s eyes slowly widen. “What?” I sip my wine.

Y/n exhales. “Chris—”

“WHAT?!” Chris’s chair scrapes back as he shoots to his feet. “You’re kidding. You’re JOKING.”

Alba mutters, “I need more wine.“

Chris turns back to Y/n. “You got someone pregnant?!“

Y/n sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Chris—”

“And you just dropped this bomb at dinner like it’s a casual fun fact?!“

I cut in, voice smooth. “Oh, I dropped it. Y/n would’ve just let you figure it out when the baby started kindergarten… And it wasn’t just a someone, it was Madelyn.” I grinned sarcastically as I continued to sip on my wine.

Chris throws his hands up. “Jesus Christ!”

Alba is already uncorking another bottle of wine.

Chris stares at Y/n, stunned. “Dude. DUDE.“

Y/n sighs, rubbing her temples. “I know, okay? I know this is a lot.” Chris points aggressively. “A LOT?! That’s the understatement of the year! Did you tell mom?! Dad?! I—”

Y/n groans. “Chris—”

“NO, NO, NO.” Chris paces the room. “You don’t just ‘oops‘ your way into having a baby with your ex-girlfriend!”

Y/n buries her face in her hands. “Oh my god.” Chris stops pacing abruptly. “How far along is she?” Y/n hesitates. “Uh… nine weeks.”

Chris’s jaw drops. “NINE WEEKS?!” I hummed, sipping my wine. “That’s the one.” I point.

Chris looks like he’s about to combust. “Y/n. What the actual fuck?” Alba finally speaks. “What are you gonna do?”

Y/n exhales, glancing at me. “I don’t know yet.” Chris stares at her like she’s grown a second head. “You don’t know?!”

I lean back, crossing my arms. “Oh, she knows.” Y/n grits her teeth. “Scarlett.“

Chris drags a hand down his face. “This is a nightmare.” I pop another bite of food into my mouth, fully enjoying the chaos.

Chris mutters, “I need a drink.” I raise my glass. “Cheers to that.”

.  .  .

𝐘/𝐍’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The second Alba suggests fresh air, Scarlett all but bolts toward the backyard, her wine glass still in hand.

I barely get a second to react before Chris grabs me by the back of my hoodie and drags me toward the living room like an older brother about to lecture the hell out of his little sister.

I sigh. Here we go.

“Alright,” Chris says, finally letting me go and crossing his arms. “What the hell are you doing?”

I rub my hands over my face. “Chris—”

“No, Y/n.” His voice is firm. “I’m serious. What are you doing?”

I exhale heavily, looking at him. This isn’t just protective big brother mode. His face is lined with genuine concern, his brows furrowed in frustration, but more than that—he cares.

I let out a slow breath, raking a hand through my hair. “I’m… trying to do the right thing.”

Chris snorts. “And what is the right thing, exactly? Huh?” He tilts his head. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re walking a very fine line between handling your responsibilities and absolutely screwing yourself over.”

I tense slightly, my jaw clenching. “I know what I’m doing.”

Chris arches a brow. “Do you?” I swallow hard. No. Not really.

Chris exhales, shaking his head. “Look, Y/n, I’m not trying to come at you, alright? But I need you to hear me out.”

I rub my temples. “Chris—”

“No, just shut up and listen for a second.” His voice is calm but firm. Big Brother Mode fully activated.

I don’t say anything. I just look at him, waiting.

Chris sighs, his voice softer now. “I love you, alright? You’re my little sister. And I know you always want to take care of everyone, to be the one who steps up when things get hard. That’s just who you are.”

I press my lips together, because he’s right.

He keeps going. “But you cannot just bulldoze through this thinking about Madelyn and the baby first without thinking about Scarlett too. You can’t just assume she’ll be fine because she loves you.”

I flinch. Chris notices. “Y/n, you just got her back. She fought for you. She chose you after everything. But she’s terrified right now, and if you don’t handle this carefully, you could lose her again.”

I drop my head, exhaling.

Chris watches me for a second, his voice gentler. “Scarlett’s strong, yeah. But she’s not invincible, Y/n. She’s been burned before, you both went through shit together, she hurt you, you hurt her. And now you’re asking her to stand by while you have a kid with someone else.”

My stomach twists painfully.

Chris shakes his head. “This isn’t just about you and Madelyn, Y/n. It’s about Scarlett, too. And if you don’t show her—really show her—that she still comes first to you? She’s gonna start believing she doesn’t.”

I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “It’s not like that, Chris.”

He levels me with a look. “Then prove it.”

I let out a slow breath, my chest tight. “I don’t want to lose her.”

Chris sighs, stepping forward. “Then don’t.”

I clench my jaw. “How?”

He exhales, placing a firm hand on my shoulder. “You remind her that you love her. Every day. You show her that just because you’re stepping up for this kid, it doesn’t mean she has to step aside. You make her feel secure. She has two kids and still shows up for you,”

I nod, swallowing hard.

Chris studies my face for a moment before his own expression softens. “You’re gonna be okay, Y/n.”

I glance at him. “You think?”

Chris smirks slightly. “No, you’re totally screwed. But you’ll figure it out.”

I let out a small laugh despite the weight pressing down on me. “Wow. Great pep talk, man. Where’s Steve Rogers when I need him?”

Chris grins, then suddenly pulls me into a tight hug. I tense for half a second before relaxing, hugging him back.

He pats me on the back. “I’m always gonna have your back, alright? No matter what. Even when you’re an idiot.”

I chuckle. “Thanks.”

Chris pulls back, squeezing my shoulders. “I love you. And I’m here. Always.”

I nod, because I believe him. I know he will always be here, that’s how it’s always been.

Then he sighs, shaking his head. “Now let’s go check on Scarlett before she drowns her feelings in my whole wine collection.”

I snort. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

Chris throws an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the backyard. And for the first time all night, I feel like maybe—just maybe—I’m not completely drowning.

.  .  .

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The second I step into Lizzie’s house, Florence is already pouring me a drink. I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head as I take the glass from her. “Am I that predictable?”

Florence smirks. “You sent a one-word text saying, ‘Help.’ I figured it was either an emergency or you just needed wine and unsolicited advice.”

Lizzie raises an eyebrow from her seat on the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her. “Is it an emergency?”

I sigh, dropping onto the couch next to her. “That depends. Does finding out your girlfriend got her ex pregnant count as one?”

The room goes dead silent. Florence, in the middle of taking a sip of her wine, chokes. “I’m sorry, what?“

Lizzie’s mouth falls open. “Scarlett.” I groan, setting my glass down. “I know.”

Lizzie shakes her head. “No, I don’t think you do know because you just said that way too casually.”

Florence flops onto the couch beside me, her eyes wide. “Hold on—Y/n Evans got Madelyn Cline pregnant? Am I hearing this right?”

I nod, rubbing my temples. “Yep.” Lizzie exhales, sitting back. “Jesus Christ.”

Florence stares at me. “And you just found out?” I nod again.

Lizzie swallows. “How… are you feeling?” I huff a humorless laugh. “Like I want to set something on fire.”

Florence whistles low. “Yikes.” Lizzie nudges me gently. “Scar, seriously.”

I exhale sharply, gripping my glass a little tighter. “I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I feel like my entire world just got flipped upside down. Y/n and I just got to a good place, you know? And now this?”

Florence tilts her head. “You think she’s gonna leave you for Madelyn?”

I scoff immediately. “No. Y/n wouldn’t do that.” Lizzie studies me. “Then what do you think?”

I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. “I think… it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t want to leave me. Because no matter what, she and Madelyn are tied together now. Forever.“

Florence and Lizzie exchange a glance. I continue, my voice quieter now. “I’ve never doubted how much Y/n loves me. But I also know her. And I know how much responsibility means to her. If she feels like someone needs her, she’ll put everything else aside for them.”

Lizzie’s eyes soften. “Including you.” I nod. Florence frowns. “But Y/n isn’t just some idiot who’s gonna drop you, Scar. She’s crazy about you.”

I rub my temple. “I know that. But she’s also about to have a baby with her ex, and I—” I break off, pressing my lips together. Lizzie shifts closer. “You’re scared.”

I swallow hard. Florence leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Scarlett, you’re not replaceable.”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “I feel replaceable.”

Lizzie squeezes my knee. “That’s not the same thing.”

I drop my head back against the couch. “I just keep thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. About how much is going to change. And part of me wonders if I should just…” I trail off, staring at the ceiling.

Florence tilts her head. “Just what?” I hesitate.

Lizzie narrows her eyes. “Scarlett. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.” I shake my head. “I just—I don’t want to be the one clinging onto something if it’s already slipping away.”

Florence groans, throwing a pillow at me. “Oh my God, stop being dramatic.” I glare at her. “Florence.”

She holds up a hand. “No. I refuse to let you spiral. Listen to me—Y/n chose you. She came back to you.” Lizzie nods. “And if she wanted to be with Madelyn, she would be. But she’s not. She’s with you.“

Florence smirks. “And, like, if she was gonna end up with her ex, she would’ve done it before she fell in love with you.”

I exhale, my chest feeling a little less tight. “I just… I don’t want to lose her.” Lizzie’s voice is soft but firm. “Then don’t.”

I blink. She shrugs. “Fight for her, Scar. Make sure she knows how you feel before you convince yourself of something that’s not even true.”

Florence nods. “And stop with the passive-aggressive comments. You’ll just push her away.” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Lizzie smirks. “You love her?”

I shoot her a look. “Obviously.” Florence grins. “Then stop being a coward and tell her that.“

I groan, but deep down, I know they’re right. Y/n is mine. And if I don’t start acting like it, I might just lose her before I even get the chance to fight for her.

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