𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

It had been a couple of weeks since the night at Chris and Alba's.

Since the bomb had dropped. Since Scarlett had looked at me like I was a stranger, wondering if she was walking away from me for good.

But somehow, we made it past that night. Slowly, carefully.

Scarlett hadn't forgiven me overnight. Hell, I wasn't even sure she had forgiven me now. But we kept moving forward, because that was what we did.

We had been through worse. We had fought like hell to be together again. And even if things still felt... different, we were trying.

We started doing normal things again. Dinners, movie nights, even simple conversations that weren't laced with tension. It wasn't the same as before, but I told myself it would be. Eventually.

Except now, sitting in my car outside her house, I wasn't so sure.

Because I had messed up. Again.

I looked at my phone screen, the glow illuminating the nine missed calls and three texts from Scarlett.

Scarlett ♡ 😮‍💨:
Are you serious right now? (8:30 PM)

Scarlett ♡ 😮‍💨:
Y/n. (9:00 PM)

Scarlett ♡ 😮‍💨:

I let out a slow breath, running a hand down my face. The time at the top of my screen read 11:17 PM.

Our date night had been over for an hour.

And instead of being there, I had been at the prenatal class with Madelyn.

It wasn't intentional. I didn't plan to ditch Scarlett. The class had just run late, and I got caught up in the details—practicing how to swaddle a baby, learning the proper way to hold a newborn.

Before I knew it, the instructor was asking if there were any final questions, and my phone was buzzing with Scarlett's name.

I had fucked up.

I sighed and grabbed the bouquet of flowers I picked up on the way here, knowing damn well they wouldn't fix anything but hoping they'd at least soften the blow. Then I stepped out of the car and made my way to the front door.

I knocked. Once. Twice. Nothing. I knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing.

I exhaled and pulled out my phone.

Y/n/n 😘:
Scar, open the door. Please.

A long pause. Then—

Scarlett ♡ 😮‍💨:
No.

I winced. Yeah, that was bad.

Y/n/n 😘:
Come on, I know I messed up. Just let me in so we can talk.

Another pause.

Scarlett ♡ 😮‍💨:
Door's unlocked.

That felt worse than a full-blown fight.

I stepped inside, shutting the door softly behind me. The house was quiet, dimly lit, with only a single lamp in the living room. Scarlett was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, a half-empty glass of wine in her hand.

She didn't even look at me when she spoke.

"You missed date night."

Her voice was quiet. Not in a soft way. More like she was holding something back, pressing it down so it wouldn't come out all at once.

I set the flowers down on the coffee table and sat on the edge of the couch. "I know."

"Do you?" she asked, still staring at the TV even though it wasn't on. "Because it sure as hell didn't seem like it when I was sitting alone at that restaurant for over an hour."

I sighed. "Scar—"

"I had to tell the waiter you weren't coming," she continued, voice eerily calm. "And then I got to enjoy an entire three-course meal by myself, which was really fun, by the way. Definitely not humiliating."

I closed my eyes for a second before meeting hers. "Scar, I'm sorry."

She let out a humorless laugh. "You're sorry?"

"Yes." She took a slow sip of her wine, then set the glass down. "Where were you?"

I hesitated. Just for a second. But that was all she needed. "Oh no," she muttered, shaking her head. "Don't even tell me—"

I exhaled. "I was at the prenatal class with Madelyn." Her jaw clenched. "Of course you were."

I frowned. "Scarlett—"

"No, it's fine." She stood up abruptly, taking her empty wine glass with her as she walked toward the kitchen.

I followed. "It ran longer than I expected—"

"Uh-huh."

"I lost track of time—"

"Shocking."

I sighed. "Come on, Scar—"

She spun around, arms crossed. "You didn't even text me." That part stung. Because she was right. I could handle anger. But disappointment? That shit killed me.

"I know," I admitted, guilt settling deep in my chest. "I fucked up." Scarlett scoffed. "You think?"

I took a step closer. "Scarlett, this wasn't me choosing her over you—"

"Wasn't it?" she shot back. I tensed. "No. It wasn't." She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You really expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, because it's the truth." She narrowed her eyes. "The truth?"

"Yes." She crossed her arms tighter. "Okay, then tell me something, Y/n. If I hadn't texted you—if I hadn't reminded you—when would you have realized you were supposed to be with me tonight?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Her lips parted slightly, like she hadn't expected me to actually hesitate. That hurt.

She exhaled, stepping back. "Yeah," she murmured. "That's what I thought."

"Scarlett—" She held up a hand. "I'm tired, Y/n."

"I know."

"No, I don't think you do." She shook her head, her voice quieter now but heavier. "Because I'm not just tired. I'm exhausted. And it's not because of one missed date night. It's because I keep feeling like..."

She trailed off, shaking her head. I stepped forward. "Like what?"

Scarlett looked up at me, her expression unreadable. "Like I'm coming second."

That one hit me straight in the chest.

I opened my mouth, ready to fight that, to tell her she was wrong, that I loved her, that nothing was more important to me than her—but the words got caught in my throat. Because for the first time, I saw it.

The way her shoulders slumped like she was carrying something heavy. The way she blinked a few times like she was forcing herself not to cry. The way she was preparing for me to tell her she was overreacting.

My heart ached. Scarlett sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm going to bed."

I stepped forward instinctively. "Scar—"

"Goodnight, Y/n." I knew better than to push.

So I let her go. I stood there and I wondered if I was about to lose her all over again.

.  .  .

I barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, Scarlett's words echoed in my head.

Like I'm coming second.

The worst part? I couldn't even blame her for feeling that way.

By the time morning rolled around, I was still staring at the ceiling, debating if I should try to talk to her now or give her space. The last thing I wanted was to make things worse, but letting this sit between us wasn't an option either.

So I got up, made coffee, and waited. When Scarlett finally emerged from the bedroom, she didn't even glance at me. She walked straight to the kitchen, grabbed a mug, and poured herself coffee like I wasn't even there.

I took a deep breath. "Scarlett."

Nothing. I ran a hand through my hair. "Scar, come on. Talk to me."

She sipped her coffee, still not looking at me. "There's nothing to talk about."

I sighed. "Yes, there is." She let out a short laugh and finally turned to face me. "Oh? What is there to talk about, Y/n? The fact that you forgot about me? That you didn't even realize I was sitting alone at that restaurant until it was too late?"

I flinched. "That's not what happened." Scarlett arched an eyebrow. "Really? Because that's exactly what it felt like."

I exhaled, trying to keep my voice even. "I didn't forget about you, Scar." She scoffed, shaking her head. "That's even worse. You knew and still didn't show up."

I clenched my jaw. "It wasn't intentional."

"That doesn't make it better!" She set her coffee down with a sharp clink. "Y/n, I'm not asking for much. I just wanted one night. One night where I wasn't an afterthought."

"You're not an afterthought," I argued, stepping closer. "Scarlett, you know that's not true."

She laughed, but it wasn't her usual laugh. It was bitter. Cold. "Do I? Because lately, it really doesn't feel that way."

I sighed. "Scarlett, this situation is complicated. I'm doing the best I can."

"Oh, I know it's complicated." She crossed her arms. "But you know what's not complicated? Making an effort. Showing up. Not letting me sit alone at a restaurant while you play happy family with your ex."

I rubbed my temples. "It's not like that." Scarlett threw up her hands. "Then what is it like, Y/n? Because from where I'm standing, it sure as hell looks like you're prioritizing Madelyn over me."

I took a sharp breath. "That's not fair."

She blinked. "Not fair?"

I nodded, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "Scarlett, this isn't me choosing her over you. This is me stepping up for my kid. Do you really want me to be the kind of person who doesn't?"

Scarlett's jaw tightened. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Make it sound like I'm the bad guy for wanting to be a priority." She shook her head. "Because I'm not asking you to abandon your kid. I would never ask you to do that. But you're acting like I should just be fine with being pushed to the side every time Madelyn calls."

I exhaled. "That's not what's happening."

She stared at me for a long moment, then shook her head. "Yes, it is."

I ran a hand down my face. "Scar, I'm trying. I'm trying to be a good partner and a good parent. But this is new for me. I don't have all the answers."

She let out a slow breath. "And what about me, Y/n? Am I just supposed to wait while you figure it out? Just keep pretending that I'm okay while I watch you build a life with her?"

I frowned. "It's not about Madelyn."

She laughed again, but this time, there was a crack in her voice. "You say that, but she's always there. She's always the reason." She crossed her arms tighter. "Every time you cancel plans, every time you forget something important, every time I feel like I'm losing you—it's her."

My chest tightened. "Scarlett, you aren't losing me."

She looked at me like she wanted to believe that. Like she needed to. But she didn't say anything.

I took a step closer. "Scar, I love you. Nothing is going to change that."

She swallowed hard. "Then prove it."

I froze. "What?"

She exhaled, looking down. "Prove to me that I'm still important to you. That I matter. Because right now? I don't feel like I do." I shook my head. "Scar, that's not—"

"I can't do this, Y/n," she interrupted, voice strained. "I can't keep feeling like I'm waiting for you to decide if I'm worth it."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Because what the hell was I supposed to say to that?

Scarlett ran a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily. "I don't want to fight. I just... I need time to think."

My stomach dropped. "Think about what?" She looked up at me, and for the first time, I saw it.

Doubt.

She took a step back. "About whether or not this is going to work." My heart clenched. "Scarlett—"

"Y/n, if you can't do that then there isn't anything else for us to talk—"

I interrupted her, not wanting to hear the end of that. "I, I can do that, you know I don't want to lose you, I promise, I will do better."

Scarlett looked hesitant before just nodding her head. She took a sip from her coffee before heading upstairs. I let out a sigh, running my hand through my hair. I know this is a mess and I'm determined to fix it, I can't lose her. Not again.