𝟏𝟓

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florence


I settled onto the sofa, finding a comfortable spot, a cup of wine cradled in my hand, my gaze fixed on Scarlett, silently waiting for the conversation to begin. She was engrossed in her phone, tapping away as she composed an email or text message. I opted not to initiate the conversation, instead allowing a moment of quiet before delving into whatever topic awaited our discussion.

Scarlett eventually set her phone aside and cast her gaze downwards, her focus shifting to her cup. I maintained my steady stare, anticipating her next words, sensing an unspoken tension lingering between us. When she looked up, meeting my gaze with unwavering eye contact, she attempted to divert the conversation.

"Where's Emerson?" Scarlett's question veered away from the topic we both knew needed addressing. I sensed her deliberate attempt to shift the focus away from the underlying issue at hand.

"Sleeping," I responded quietly, my voice trailing off slightly as I acknowledged Emerson's absence. Scarlett acknowledged my reply with a subtle nod, her response a subtle indicator of understanding. She bit down on her cheek, a sign of her internal contemplation or unease, a clear indicator that the avoidance of the actual conversation wasn't lost on either of us.

Scarlett began without preamble, her words cutting through the air with a weight that demanded immediate attention. "Colin wants a divorce," she announced abruptly, not leaving room for any preliminary response. Before I could react or offer any words of solace, she delved further into the revelation.

"And Lizzie... kissed me," Scarlett continued, her voice betraying a mix of confusion and surprise. "At dinner, in the bathroom." Her words hung in the air, a shock-wave coursing through me as I widened my eyes in disbelief, grappling with the unexpected turn of events. The weight of her words sank in, leaving a lingering sense of astonishment and an urgent need for further explanation.

"I... I'm sorry, what?" I murmured in a hushed tone, my mind struggling to process the sudden revelation.

"I'm... I think, uh, no. I know... I am... lesbian," Scarlett confessed, her words tinged with apprehension, clearly anxious about my reaction.

Her admission hung in the air, and for a moment, the weight of her truth seemed to still the room. My initial shock slowly transformed into a sense of understanding and empathy, recognising the vulnerability in her disclosure.

"That must have been really tough for you, Scarlett," I responded with genuine empathy, acknowledging the emotional weight of both her divorce and her coming out.

"I'm proud of you for being true to yourself and finding your way," I expressed sincerely, wanting to convey my support and admiration for her courage in embracing her identity. "Thank you." She mumbled.

"It sounds like a journey of self-discovery," I remarked, empathising with the complexity of her emotions. "Recognising those feelings and realising what they meant for you must have been a lot to process."

Scarlett continued, her words unveiling the evolution of her feelings. "When Lizzie and I first kissed, it seemed insignificant. But over time, I noticed a shift within myself. I found myself unintentionally growing distant from Colin. And although it was unsettling at first, it felt right... not to fall in love with a man."

"I never knew I needed that comfort and validation from him," Scarlett continued. Her voice held a mix of surprise and gratitude. "When I told him, he comforted me. He said it was okay, and I was thankful for that." Her words carried a weight of unexpected gratitude and realisation.

She looked at me, her expression teetering on the edge, as if she was on the brink of tears. "I'm so proud of you," I confessed playfully pouting, prompting a genuine smile to break across her face. "Thank you for being who you are. I love you," she expressed warmly, enveloping me in a heartfelt hug and placing a tender kiss on my forehead.

"You're like a mother," I remarked, and her laughter filled the air. "Well, I do have a daughter..." she trailed off, a hint of amusement lingering in her tone.

"And soon you'll be a mother." Scarlett mumbled, her gaze drifting downward as she spoke. Her words struck a chord within me, and I couldn't help but bite down on my lip, contemplating the weight of her statement.

"I've been thinking about it for a while," I admitted, my voice carrying a mix of contemplation and determination. "I do want to adopt Emerson. I want to claim her as my daughter," I affirmed, my thoughts racing as I vocalised my heartfelt desire.

Reflecting on Emerson's past, I felt a surge of compassion. "Knowing all that she's been through... she doesn't deserve that," I continued, my voice tinged with empathy. "I want to be there for her, to provide comfort and support. I want her to see me as a mother figure in her life."

The idea of motherhood had always been a distant dream for me, and now the prospect of having a child, even through adoption, felt poignant and significant. "I've always dreamt of having a child," I confessed, acknowledging the complexity of my feelings. "And though it may seem unusual when I think about it, I absolutely know it would be worth it." The certainty in my voice reflected the depth of my conviction and the profound desire to provide love and care to Emerson as a mother figure in her life.

"Whatever you want to do in your life, I'm here to support you all the way." Scarlett says truthfully, "Thank you, Scar," I responded sincerely, feeling a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support. Her words held a depth of honesty that resonated deeply within me.

Having her steadfast support meant the world to me. "Knowing that you're here to support me in whatever I choose means a lot," I expressed, a sense of warmth flooding my heart. Scarlett's genuine and unconditional support was a comforting reminder of the valuable presence she held in my life. 






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ELLO! this chapter is quite short... i know, i'm a bit confused on what to write in the next chapter, they just get more boring time and time again, i think i'll do something related to Mr. Harrinson.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 (EDITING)Where stories live. Discover now