𝐘/𝐍'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The room is dimly lit, the only real light coming from the small ultrasound machine beside the exam table. Madelyn is lying back, her shirt pulled up just enough to expose her stomach, her hands clasped tightly together over her ribs.

I stand next to her, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the table, the other shoved into my pocket to stop myself from fidgeting.

Dr. Samuel spreads a thick layer of gel onto Madelyn's stomach, the coolness of it making her flinch slightly. "Sorry, it's a little cold," the doctor says with a small smile.

Madelyn lets out a breathy laugh. "That's the least of my concerns right now." I squeeze her wrist lightly, just to remind her that I'm still here.

Dr. Samuel places the ultrasound wand against her skin, and the room is silent except for the low hum of the machine as she moves it across Madelyn's stomach. A few seconds pass.

A soft, rhythmic sound fills the room. I barely register the slight hitch in Madelyn's breath as my own chest tightens. The sound is faint, but steady.

A heartbeat.

Dr. Samuel's voice is calm, steady, reassuring. "There we go. Strong and healthy." Madelyn swallows hard. "That's... that's the baby?"

Dr. Samuel nods. "That's your baby." Madelyn presses her lips together, and I see her eyes start to glisten again. I feel like I should say something, but what the hell do you even say in a moment like this?

I glance at the screen, my heart hammering. The image is blurry, black and white, almost surreal—but even with my complete lack of medical knowledge, I can make out the tiny shape.

Madelyn's fingers clutch the side of the table. "How far along am I?"

Dr. Samuel shifts slightly, adjusting the screen. "Based on measurements, you're about nine weeks." Nine weeks. I suck in a breath.

I do the math in my head. That tracks. That lines up exactly with—Shit. My stomach turns. This is real. Dr. Samuel types something into the machine before turning back to Madelyn. "Would you like to hear it again?"

Madelyn blinks. "The heartbeat? Yes," Dr. Samuel nods. She hesitates, glancing at me. I don't know what she's looking for—permission, reassurance, something.

I just nod. She swallows and turns back to the doctor. "Yeah. Yeah, I want to hear it."

Dr. Samuel makes a few adjustments, and then— The sound fills the room again.

A strong, rhythmic thumping. Madelyn's breath shudders. I feel her fingers graze mine, barely there, hesitant, but enough to make me squeeze back instinctively.

She lets out something between a laugh and a sob. "That's crazy."

Dr. Samuel smiles. "It's a strong heartbeat. Everything looks good." Madelyn nods, her eyes glued to the screen. "That's good."

Dr. Samuel clicks a few buttons, printing out the ultrasound image. She gently wipes the gel from Madelyn's stomach before rolling back in her chair.

"I know this is a lot to process," she says softly. "Do you have any questions?" Madelyn opens her mouth, then closes it.

Dr. Samuel nods knowingly. "That's okay. You don't have to have the answers right now. Just know that you have options. And you're not alone in this." Madelyn swallows, looking down at the printed ultrasound as Dr. Samuel hands it to her.

Her fingers shake slightly as she takes it. I watch her, my own stomach tight with emotions I can't even begin to unpack. After a long moment, she looks up at me.

And for the first time since she called me, I see something new in her eyes. Fear. Pure, unfiltered fear. I squeeze her hand again. She doesn't let go.

.  .  .

The drive back to Madelyn's place is quiet. Not tense—just heavy. Madelyn sits in the passenger seat, the ultrasound photo still clutched in her hands, her eyes glued to it like if she looks away, it might disappear.

I don't rush her. She hasn't said much since we left the doctor's office, and I don't push. I figure she needs time to process. Hell, I need time to process.

My mind is still racing from everything—nine weeks. The heartbeat. The fucking reality of it all. I keep one hand on the wheel, the other tapping idly against my thigh as I navigate through the city.

When we pull up outside her apartment, she finally exhales. It's shaky. I glance at her. "You wanna go inside and talk?" She nods, but it's hesitant. Like she's not sure what talking will solve.

I kill the engine, and we both step out. The air feels thicker now, like the weight of everything is pressing down all at once.

By the time we step into her apartment, she's already moving toward the couch, sinking down like she can't hold herself up anymore.

I hesitate, then sit beside her. Not too close. Giving her space. She stares down at the ultrasound.

"I don't even know how to feel," she admits quietly. I nod, leaning forward, resting my forearms on my knees. "Yeah. I get that." She lets out a small, humorless laugh. "Do you?"

I glance at her. "Yeah, Madelyn. I do." She turns toward me, finally looking me in the eye. "How? How do you even process something like this?"

I rub the back of my neck. "I don't know. I think we're both still trying to figure that out."

She nods, swallowing hard. Then, softly, "Y/n." I don't answer right away. Just wait.

Her voice is barely above a whisper. "What are we gonna do?" I inhale slowly, letting the weight of the question settle between us. There's no easy answer. No script for this kind of thing.

"I don't know," I admit honestly. "But whatever happens, you're not doing this alone."

She lets out a shaky breath, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. I watch her shoulders rise and fall. "I don't regret us," she says suddenly.

I blink. She lowers her hands, looking at me with glassy eyes. "I don't. No matter what happens, I need you to know that." My throat tightens. I nod, my voice quieter than I expect. "I know."

For a moment, neither of us speak. Then, finally, she shifts closer, her knee brushing mine. "I'm scared, Y/n." I exhale, running a hand over my jaw. "Yeah. Me too."

She nods, staring at the ultrasound again. A beat of silence. Then, a whisper—barely audible.

"Scarlett's gonna hate me." I stiffen slightly. Madelyn lets out a breathy laugh, but there's no humor in it. "She's gonna hate this." I don't respond right away. Because she's not wrong.

Scarlett and I just got to a good place. And now? Now, everything is about to change. I glance at Madelyn, watching her trace the edges of the ultrasound photo with shaky fingers.

I sigh, leaning back against the couch. "We'll figure it out." She turns to me, searching my face. "Are you sure?" I nod. "Yeah. One day at a time." She swallows hard, then nods back.

One day at a time. That's all we've got right now.

.  .  .

Telling Scarlett.

It's the only thought circling in my head as I drive back to my apartment. I've had my fair share of difficult conversations, but this one? This one sits in my chest like a goddamn boulder, pressing heavier with every mile.

How the hell do I even begin? "Hey, Scar. So, funny story—I might have gotten my ex pregnant before we got back together, but don't worry! I just found out, too!"

Yeah. That's not gonna cut it. Scarlett deserves the truth, no sugarcoating. But saying it out loud? It makes it too real.

I don't even realize where I'm driving until I pull into Dylan's driveway. I sit there for a moment, gripping the wheel, before sighing and getting out. If anyone is going to help me navigate this mess, it's them.

When I knock, the door swings open in less than three seconds. Dylan's eyes immediately narrow. "Why do you look like you just ran over a puppy?"

Anna appears behind him, brows furrowed. "Wait. Are you sick? You look weird. Why do you look weird?"

Jesus Christ.

I sigh, stepping past them. "Can I come in before you both diagnose me with a terminal illness?"

Dylan steps aside, exchanging a look with Anna. "Shit. This is serious, huh?" Anna crosses her arms as she follows me into the living room. "Did you kill someone?"

"What? No!" I drop onto the couch, running a hand over my face. "But I kinda wish I were dead right now."

Dylan plops down beside me, grabbing a beer off the coffee table and handing me one without asking if I want it. "Alright. Spill."

I hesitate, staring at the unopened bottle in my hand.

Anna sits on my other side, tucking her feet under her. "Y/n, you're making me anxious." I take a deep breath, then exhale slowly. "Madelyn's pregnant."

Silence. A long, suffocating silence.

Then—Dylan chokes on his beer. Anna's mouth falls open.

"You—what?" Anna finally sputters. Dylan coughs, wiping his mouth. "Back the fuck up. Did you just say what I think you said?"

I nod, rubbing my temples. Anna blinks, shaking her head like she's trying to reset her brain. "Okay, hold on. Hold on. Madelyn Cline? Your ex? That Madelyn?"

"Do I have another Madelyn?" I deadpan. Dylan whistles low. "Holy shit."

Anna still looks like she's buffering. "I—I don't even know what to say." I let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah? Try being me right now."

Dylan leans back, staring at the ceiling. "Man. You really never do anything halfway, huh?" Anna swats his arm. "Dylan, not helpful!"

I groan, dropping my head into my hands. "I have to tell Scarlett." Dylan lets out a low whistle. "Yeah, uh. That conversation is gonna be... intense."

Anna smacks his arm again. "Shut up, Dylan!"

I glance up, rubbing my hands together. "I don't even know where to start. I don't want to blindside her, but I also... I don't know how she's gonna react."

Anna sighs, her voice softer now. "Y/n... you just got her back. And now this?"

I look at her, guilt gnawing at my insides. "You think I don't know that?"

Dylan leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Okay. Here's the thing—you can't control how she reacts. She's gonna feel how she feels. All you can do is be honest and reassure her that you're not abandoning her for Madelyn or some shit."

Anna nods. "Yeah. And don't sugarcoat it. She'll see right through that." I sigh. "So, tell her straight up. And then... just hope for the best?"

Dylan shrugs. "Basically." Anna eyes me carefully. "How do you feel about it? The baby, I mean?"

I hesitate, my stomach twisting. "I don't know," I admit. "It's overwhelming. And I'm scared as hell. But Madelyn is terrified, and I don't want her to go through this alone."

Dylan nods slowly. "You're a good person, Y/n. But you need to make sure Scarlett knows where she stands in all of this."

Anna leans forward, squeezing my hand. "You're not the same person who let her walk away before. Just be honest. She loves you."

I take a deep breath. I know Scarlett loves me. But love doesn't always mean forever. And I don't know if this news is the kind of thing you come back from.

.  .  .

I spend the entire drive back to Scarlett's place rehearsing the conversation in my head. How do I start? How do I say the words in a way that won't completely shatter what we've built back up?

There's no way to soften it. No way to make it hurt less. Scarlett deserves honesty. And I just have to hope that honesty doesn't break us.

By the time I reach her place, my hands are gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles are white. I sit in the car for a minute, taking a deep breath before finally forcing myself out and heading to her front door.

I knock. A few seconds later, the door swings open, and there she is—standing in leggings and one of my hoodies, her hair slightly damp from a shower, looking so effortlessly beautiful it makes my chest ache.

She smiles immediately. "Hey, baby! I wasn't expecting to see you today." The sound of her voice, the softness in it, nearly makes me back out.

She steps aside to let me in, closing the door behind me before pressing up on her toes to kiss my cheek. "You didn't tell me you were coming over."

I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. "I needed to see you." Scarlett leans back slightly, frowning at my tone. "What's wrong?"

She studies my face, her brows drawing together. I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw. "We need to talk." Scarlett takes a small step back.

Not a big one. Just enough to put a little space between us. Enough to make my stomach sink. "Okay," she says cautiously with a nervous smile on her face. She nods her head towards the stairs and I follow her upstairs to her bedroom.

I run a hand through my hair, forcing myself to meet her eyes. "It's about Madelyn." Her entire body tenses. She crosses her arms slowly, the warmth from moments ago fading from her expression. "What about her?"

I take a breath. Just say it. "She's pregnant."

Silence. Complete, deafening silence.

Scarlett doesn't move. Doesn't blink. It's like she's frozen in time, her lips slightly parted, her eyes locked onto mine but not really seeing me.

I can feel the moment it fully registers. Her face shifts—disbelief flickering into something sharper. She lets out a short, breathy laugh. "You're joking."

I shake my head. Scarlett blinks, her arms tightening over her chest. "You're serious."

I nod. "She just found out. She—" Scarlett cuts me off with a sharp, humorless laugh. She takes a step back, her head tilting like she's trying to piece together a puzzle that suddenly doesn't fit anymore.

"Okay," she says, voice unnervingly even. "So let me get this straight—you and I finally, finally get our shit together, and now you're telling me your ex is having your baby?"

I feel my heart pound harder. "Scarlett—"

"How long have you known?"

I hesitate, and that's all it takes. Scarlett scoffs, running a hand through her hair. "Oh my God. You knew, didn't you? You knew something was going on when you took that phone call the other day."

I shake my head quickly. "I didn't know. She didn't say anything until today. I swear."

Scarlett exhales sharply, pacing a few steps away like she needs the extra room to breathe. She spins back toward me, her expression guarded. "And what does this mean for us, Y/n? What does this change?"

I hesitate. I don't want to say it changes nothing, because that would be a lie.

It changes everything. Scarlett sees the hesitation. And something in her face cracks.

She exhales, pressing her fingers to her temple. "Jesus Christ."

I take a careful step forward. "Scarlett, listen to me. I didn't plan for this. I didn't ask for this. But I have to be there for her, for the baby."

Scarlett lets out a shaky laugh. "Of course you do. Because that's who you are, right? The fixer. The protector. You always have to take care of people."

I clench my jaw. "It's not just that. This is my responsibility."

Scarlett shakes her head, looking up at the ceiling like she's begging for patience. "Do you have any idea what this feels like?" she asks, her voice quieter now.

I swallow hard. "Scarlett—"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Do you?"

I stare at her. Her eyes shine, not with anger anymore, but with something raw. Something broken.

"We just got back to a place where I finally felt like we were okay," she murmurs, her voice unsteady. "Like I wasn't waiting for something to pull you away from me again. And now, this?"

Her arms drop from her chest, hanging loosely by her sides. "I feel like I'm losing you again before I even had you back." My stomach twists painfully.

I step forward quickly, my hands reaching for hers. She doesn't pull away, but she doesn't grip them back either. "Scarlett, you're not losing me." My voice is firm, desperate. "I love you. I want you. That hasn't changed."

Scarlett lets out a slow breath, shaking her head. "It hasn't changed yet."

I flinch. She finally meets my eyes, and for the first time, I see real fear in them.

"Tell me the truth," she says quietly. "If she wasn't pregnant, would you still be talking to her at all?"

I freeze. Scarlett lets out a shaky exhale. "Exactly."

I grip her hands tighter. "Scarlett, please." She swallows, looking down at our hands. "I don't know if I can do this, Y/n."

My heart stops.

"Scar, there's no way I could've saw this coming and— you have kids, I'm still here and—"

"Y/n, they were here before you! It's not like I got pregnant with them a few months ago, this isn't the same! You knew about them before we got together, before we even started fooling around the first time!"

She was right, I just— I don't even know why I said that, I just felt like I had to say something, anything.

Scarlett steps back, pulling her hands away. "I need time to think."

My chest tightens. "Scarlett—" She shakes her head. "Just... give me space."

I feel like my whole body is shutting down, but I nod. Because what else can I do? Scarlett exhales sharply, her expression unreadable. "I'll call you when I'm ready to talk."

And with that, I knew I had to turn around and disappear out of her bedroom. She closed the door behind me.

I stood there, staring at the door, my stomach in knots. I just got her back. And now, I might be losing her all over again.

I don't know how long I stood there after Scarlett disappeared into her bedroom. It feels like time slowed down, like I'm stuck in some sort of purgatory where I know I should move, should say something, should do something—

But I can't. Because I can feel it. The shift. The distance that wasn't there before.

I knew this conversation would be hard. Knew it would shake us. But I didn't expect to see that look in her eyes—the one that told me she was already bracing for me to walk away.

And that's what kills me the most. That after everything, after all the ways I've tried to show her I'm here, I'm hers, I'm not leaving—she still doubts it.

And I can't even blame her. Because, deep down, I know she's not just mad about Madelyn.

She's scared. Scared that she fought for me just to lose me again. Scared that history is repeating itself, and this time, it won't end with us finding our way back to each other. I take a shaky breath, raking a hand through my hair. My chest feels tight, my mind running a hundred miles per hour.

I want to fix this. I need to fix this. But right now, I don't even know if she'll let me.

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

I closed the door behind me and press my back against it, squeezing my eyes shut.

Breathe. Just breathe.

But I can't. I feel like the floor beneath me has cracked open, and I'm free-falling into something I don't know how to stop.

Y/n and I just got back to a good place. We just started to feel stable, like we were finally standing on solid ground again.

And now, in the blink of an eye, everything is shifting beneath me. My hands are shaking. I press them against my stomach, trying to ground myself, but nothing works.

She's having a baby with Madelyn. A baby.

No matter what Y/n says, no matter how much she swears she wants me, I can't change the fact that she and Madelyn will be connected forever. That Madelyn will always be in her life in a way I won't be.

I rub a hand over my face, forcing myself to calm down, but my chest is still tight.

Because the truth is—I trust Y/n.

I just don't trust this. I don't trust that this won't change things. That this won't be the thing that finally pulls her away from me for good.

I feel my