Chapter 19- Decisions
1874 Words
Scarlett
“You gonna answer him?” Dean asked, his tone flatter this time. Sharper around the edges.
Scarlett looked down at the screen again while Will’s name continued flashing across it.
Another missed call.
Another text.
Then another incoming call immediately after.
The constant buzzing was starting to feel aggressive at this point.
Across the kitchen, Dean leaned back against the counter with his coffee in one hand, but the calm expression he wore a few minutes ago was slipping.
Scarlett caught the tension working through his jaw before he glanced away toward the window like he was already irritated by the entire situation.
Honestly?
So was she.
With a tired exhale, Scarlett grabbed the phone and answered before it could ring again.
“Hello?”
“Scarlett.”
Will sounded relieved instantly.
Too relieved.
Like he’d been spiraling ever since she stopped answering him.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve been calling you nonstop.”
Scarlett rubbed tiredly at her forehead.
“I noticed.”
“Well, you weren’t answering.”
There was frustration underneath the words now.
Panic too.
Scarlett’s grip tightened slightly around the phone.
“I needed space, Will.”
Silence stretched briefly across the line before he spoke again.
“Are you still at Dean’s house?”
The question came immediately.
No hesitation.
And something inside Scarlett cooled almost instantly.
Because somehow, after everything, that was still Will’s priority.
Her eyes lifted automatically across the kitchen.
Dean was already watching her.
His expression unreadable except for the irritation lingering behind his eyes now.
Scarlett looked away first.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because it’s Dean.”
Will let out a harsh breath.
“You disappear all night after what happened and end up at his house? What do you expect me to think?”
Scarlett actually stared at the phone for a second after that.
Not because the accusation hurt.
Because it genuinely annoyed her.
“You cheated on me.”
The words came out flat now.
Exhausted.
“And somehow I’m the one being questioned?”
Will went quiet immediately.
Scarlett pushed away from the counter and walked a few steps farther into the kitchen, suddenly too restless to stand still anymore.
“I know I messed up.”
“There it is again.”
Will paused.
“What?”
“You keep saying you messed up like you accidentally dented my car or forgot to call me back.” Scarlett laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.
“You cheated on me, Will.”
Across the kitchen, Dean slowly set his coffee mug down onto the counter harder than necessary.
The sharp sound echoed through the silence.
Scarlett’s eyes flicked toward him briefly.
Dean dragged a hand across his jaw before looking away, clearly trying not to involve himself.
Which honestly only made her more aware of him.
Will exhaled heavily through the phone.
“Scarlett, I’m trying to fix this.”
The frustration in his voice was becoming more obvious now.
Like he couldn’t understand why she wasn’t immediately accepting his apology.
And suddenly Scarlett realized something that made her chest ache.
Will still expected her to fight for him.
Even after everything.
“You left with Dean,” Will continued. “You stayed there overnight. You seriously expect me not to care about that?”
Wrong thing to say.
The second the words left his mouth, Scarlett felt it.
That shift.
That quiet emotional disconnect settling deeper into her chest.
Because somehow this conversation still wasn’t about her pain.
It was about Dean.
Jealousy. Possession. Pride.
Scarlett closed her eyes briefly.
Across the kitchen, Dean looked seconds away from saying something himself now.
His posture had gone rigid, attention fixed entirely on Scarlett while irritation simmered visibly beneath the surface.
But he stayed quiet.
Barely.
“You lost the right to question me the second I walked into that cabin,” Scarlett said softly.
Silence answered her.
Then quieter this time:
“Scar… please.”
The nickname hit differently now.
Not comforting.
Just sad.
And somehow that hurt worse.
Because she remembered when hearing his voice used to calm her down instantly.
Now all it did was make her feel tired.
Emotionally worn thin.
“I don’t know what you want me to say anymore,” she admitted quietly.
Another pause.
Then:
“I want us back.”
Scarlett’s eyes drifted toward Dean again before she could stop herself.
Toward the tattoos stretching down his forearms. The exhaustion lingering beneath his eyes. The obvious irritation he was trying very hard to keep under control while listening to another man fight for her over the phone.
And despite everything—
Dean was still the one making her feel safe.
The realization twisted painfully in her chest.
Because she shouldn’t have been comparing them.
But she was.
And worse—
Dean wasn’t the one losing.
“I can’t do this right now, Will.”
“Scarlett—”
“I’m serious.”
Her voice cracked slightly from exhaustion.
“I just… can’t.”
Before he could stop her, Scarlett ended the call and lowered the phone slowly onto the counter.
The kitchen went silent again.
Heavy.
Scarlett stared down at the dark screen for a long moment before speaking quietly.
“I don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.”
Dean studied her carefully from across the kitchen before finally speaking.
“Looks to me like you already made your decision, princess,” Dean said, irritation still roughening the edges of his voice.
His eyes held hers steadily for a second before he added,
“You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.”
(Later that morning)
Scarlett
The mansion felt different after the phone call.
Quieter.
Dean disappeared into work almost immediately afterward.
Phone calls behind closed office doors.
Meetings.
Emails.
The sound of his voice downstairs before silence followed again.
And somehow the distance bothered Scarlett more than she wanted to admit.
A few hours ago she’d been internally panicking every time he looked at her too long. Now he was barely around at all, and the shift left the entire house feeling strangely empty.
Scarlett shifted deeper into the couch by the living room windows, her philosophy textbook spread across her lap while unfinished notes sat scattered around her.
At least they were supposed to be notes.
She’d reread the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word.
Because every thought in her head somehow circled back to Dean.
His voice this morning.
The irritation buried beneath the word princess.
The way he stood across the kitchen while Will begged for another chance over the phone.
Like he’d been forcing himself not to say something reckless.
Scarlett groaned quietly before letting the textbook rest against her stomach.
This was ridiculous.
She was supposed to be catching up on coursework, not spiraling over her best friend’s older brother.
Footsteps sounded from the hallway before Erik wandered into the living room holding an iced coffee.
His eyes swept over the room once.
The untouched laptop.
The scattered notes.
The textbook in Scarlett’s lap.
Then he looked at her.
“You look emotionally unstable.”
Scarlett narrowed her eyes immediately.
“You and your brother are literally the same person.”
Erik grinned.
“That’s offensive to both of us.”
Despite herself, Scarlett laughed softly before taking the coffee from him.
“Thanks.”
Erik dropped into the armchair across from her and pointed toward the book.
“You’ve been staring at that same page forever.”
“I’ve been studying.”
Erik gave her a look before nodding toward the textbook.
“Scarlett.”
Confused, she looked down.
The book was upside down.
A horrified groan escaped her while Erik burst out laughing.
“Oh my God.”
“You weren’t even fake-studying correctly,” Erik said through his laughter. “The book’s upside down.”
Scarlett shoved the textbook away dramatically before covering her face with both hands.
“My brain’s broken.”
“That part’s obvious.”
She pointed toward him without uncovering her face.
“You’re being mean during my crisis.”
“I’m being observant.”
Scarlett lowered her hands enough to glare at him.
“There is no crisis.”
“Scarlett,” Erik said slowly, “you and Dean are doing that weird silent tension thing today and it’s stressing everybody out.”
She nearly choked on her coffee.
“What does that even mean?”
Erik gestured vaguely downstairs.
“You’ve been hiding up here fake-studying while Dean’s downstairs glaring at spreadsheets like they insulted him personally.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes, though heat still crept into her cheeks.
“He always glares at things.”
“Not like this.”
Something about Erik’s tone made her look away.
Because annoyingly enough…
He wasn’t wrong.
Dean had barely looked at her since this morning.
No sarcastic comments.
No lingering stares.
No quietly hovering nearby.
Nothing.
And the absence of it bothered her more than it should have.
Erik studied her for another second before his expression softened slightly.
“You wanna get out of here for a while?”
Scarlett blinked.
“What?”
“You clearly aren’t getting anything done here,” he said, pointing toward the upside-down textbook still sitting beside her. “And if I have to spend another hour trapped in this house while you and Dean avoid each other like divorced parents, I’m gonna lose my mind.”
A laugh slipped out before Scarlett could stop it.
“We are not avoiding each other.”
Erik gave her a look.
“You’ve looked toward Dean’s office every single time his door opened.”
Her mouth immediately fell open.
“I absolutely have not.”
“You literally just did it again.”
Scarlett snapped her mouth shut instantly.
Erik grinned.
“Wow. This is way worse than I thought.”
Scarlett grabbed a throw pillow and launched it directly at him.
He caught it easily.
“Violence usually means I’m right.”
“You’re unbearable.”
“And yet somehow still your favorite Steele brother.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes before leaning back against the couch with a sigh.
The truth was, staying inside the mansion all day was becoming unbearable too.
Every room felt too full of things she was trying not to think about.
Dean downstairs behind closed office doors.
The tension still lingering from this morning.
The disappointment settling in her chest every time she realized he wasn’t coming upstairs.
Scarlett hated that part most.
Erik stood before grabbing his keys off the entry table nearby.
“There’s a coffee shop near campus,” he said casually. “Come fake-study there instead.”
Another laugh slipped out of her.
“Fake-study?”
“You’ve been reading an upside-down philosophy book for an hour. I think we’re past pretending this is productive.”
Fair point.
Scarlett stood from the couch before grabbing her hoodie off the armrest.
As they headed toward the front hallway, her eyes drifted once toward the staircase leading downstairs.
Toward Dean’s office.
The door remained shut.
“Yeah,” she muttered while pulling her hoodie on. “Coffee sounds good.”
- Writer
