5. Resolve

Scarlet

The house feels too quiet.

Not peaceful—hollow.

I’ve been back for a week, and every day blends into the next like a dull smear of gray. The curtains stay drawn. The lights stay off. Time moves, but I don’t.

I lie curled on my side, knees pulled to my chest, staring at the wall like it might answer the questions running endlessly through my mind.

How did that man end up in my bed?

The question claws at me, over and over again.

No matter how many times I replay that night, there are holes—gaps where memory should be. I remember Alice’s smile. The food. The sudden heaviness in my limbs. Then… nothing.

My stomach twists violently.

I barely make it to the bathroom before I’m on my knees, retching into the toilet. There’s nothing left in me, just bitter bile and sobs that tear out of my throat like something feral.

I gag, shaking, one hand gripping the porcelain, the other pressing instinctively to my stomach.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper hoarsely. “I’m so sorry.”

For not being stronger. For letting myself break. For bringing a child into this mess.

When I crawl back to bed, my phone buzzes on the nightstand.

I don’t look at it.

I already know it’s my father.

He knocks gently an hour later.

“Scarlet?” His voice is soft, careful, like I might shatter if he speaks too loudly. “I made soup. I’m Just gonna… leave it outside your door if you don’t want to talk.”

I don’t answer.

I hear the quiet clink of a bowl being placed on the floor. Then his footsteps retreat down the hall.

Guilt settles heavy in my chest.

I know he’s worried. I hate feeling like this. I hate being the cause of his worries. And even more I hate being a burden to him. I know he’s trying. But eating feels impossible. Living feels exhausting.

Eventually, the silence becomes unbearable. My own crying echoes too loudly in my ears, so I reach for the remote and turn on the TV—anything to drown myself out.

The screen flickers to life.

A red carpet fills the room.

Flashing lights. Glamour. Applause.

I barely register it at first, until the voice mentions a familiar name makes my heart stutter.

“Elijah Griffin and his rumored partner Elise Campbell are stepping out together tonight—”

“Goodnight, everyone.” He mutters, his deep guttural voice sends flutters down my spine.

I inhale shakily. Even miles apart and I still have such an embarrassing reaction to anything related to him.

My breath leaves me in a broken sound.

There he is.

My husband.

No, ex-husband. I correct myself swiftly.

His hand rests confidently on Elise’s waist, fingers splayed like he owns her. She leans into him, smiling brightly, her hair gleaming under the lights. She looks radiant. Untouched.

Whole.

Paparazzi shout questions.

“Mr. Griffin! Is this your new girlfriend?”

“Elise, how long has this been going on?” She giggles, and smiles at the cameras. Posing.

They don’t answer.

They just smile and walk, synchronized, polished, unbothered.

My chest caves in.

It’s been barely a week.

A sob tears out of me so violently it feels like my ribs might crack.

The door suddenly opens.

“Scarlet!”

I flinch, scrambling to sit up as the TV continues playing behind me.

Dara stands in the doorway.

My Dara.

Her suitcase still by her side, hair pulled back hastily, eyes wide with worry the second they land on me.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, dropping everything and rushing to my bedside. “Look at you.”

She wraps her arms around me, and I break completely. I cry harder than I have the last couple of days since I returned home.

I sob into her shoulder, fingers fisting her shirt as if she’s the only solid thing left in the world.

“I don’t understand,” I choke out. “I don’t understand how this happened.” I sniff. “I-I thought he l-loved mee.”

“Oh, baby. I know,” she whispers fiercely, rubbing my back. “Your dad called me. I came as soon as I landed.”

The TV continues murmuring behind us.

Dara stiffens.

She glances over my shoulder—and freezes.

Her jaw tightens instantly. “No. No, no.”

She reaches past me and shuts the TV off in one sharp motion.

Silence crashes down again.

“You shouldn’t be watching that,” she mutters, anger flickering across her face. “He’s disgusting.” She mutters with spite.

I shake my head, tears still streaming. “He’s already moved on. Like I meant nothing.” I whisper shakily.

Dara pulls back just enough to look at me, cupping my face firmly. “Scarlet. Look at me.”

I force my eyes open.

“There is nothing about this that says you were replaceable,” she says. “It says he’s cruel. And weak. And that woman—” She scoffs. “She didn’t win anything.”

I let out a broken laugh that turns into another sob. “I was so happy, Dara. I was pregnant and happy and I thought—”

My voice dissolves.

Her expression softens. “Your baby,” she says gently. “Scarlet… you’re not alone in this. Think of your baby. You have an entire village beside you.”

That’s when it hits me again.

My hand drifts to my stomach.

My child.

The room seems to tilt slightly, like something inside me is realigning.

Dara notices immediately. “You have to eat,” she urges. “You have to take care of yourself—for him.”

I press my palm flat against my abdomen, tears still falling, but something inside me shifts. It’s small. Fragile.

But it’s there.

“I can’t keep doing this,” I whisper. “I can’t disappear.”

“You won’t,” Dara says firmly. “You’re stronger than you think. You always have been. And you won’t have to do this alone. I’d be with you every step of the way. And your dad too.

On cue, My father’s footsteps approach down the hall.

He stops when he sees Dara, relief washing over his face. “Thank you,” he murmurs. “Thank you so much for coming.” He smiles.

She nods. “I’ve got her.” And my heart swells.

God, I’ve missed her. I realize how much I left behind because I chose Elijah.

I take a shaky breath.

For the first time since I walked out of that conference room, something settles inside me—not peace, not yet—but resolve.

Elijah chose his path.

I will choose mine.

I wipe my face slowly, sitting up straighter.

“I’m going to get better,” I say quietly. “For my son. And for myself.”

Dara smiles softly. “That’s my girl.”

Outside, the world keeps spinning.

And for the first time in days, I decide I will too.