“You think she’s faking it?” West asks, careful but tense.
Xayden doesn’t answer right away. His gaze flickers toward me, then drops to the floor. “I don’t know,” he finally admits. “I want to believe her. I want to believe that was real, but… trust isn’t exactly my strong suit. And with those tabloids running a story about her getting back with Owen?—”
His words settle into the room, heavy and unshakable. None of us say anything for a moment. My mind flashes back to the covers—Owen, all bright-eyed and media-polished, and Ashlyn standing next to him like a ghost. My gut twists. We barely have her, and now we’re already fighting shadows again.
“On our date,” West says, breaking the silence, “I saw her. The girl we all fell in love with. She’s still in there. And her making that choice? It’s not all on her.” He leans forward slightly, his voice firm but quieter now. “We never should have done that to her back then.”
The words hit like a gut punch, the truth of them undeniable.
West’s right. We were all so caught up in our own emotions, our own jealousy and insecurity, that we put her in an impossible position. Told her to choose between us and her dream.
And she did.
The worst part? I don’t blame her.
My chest tightens, the past pressing harder against me. I look at the guys—at Jake, who’s been holding back because he doesn’t want to hurt her again. At West, who’s still trying to make sense of what happened back then. At Xayden, whose trust is as fractured as the rest of us.
And then I think of those headlines—“Ashlyn Robinson Reunites with Owen Lane?” “Spotted: The Kiss That Broke the Internet”—and it lights a fire under everything else.
If we want her—we have to fight for her.
“She said she’s broken,” I say, the words coming out rougher than I mean. “We did that to her. And maybe she’s trying to fix it now. Maybe she’s being real. But we haven’t exactly made it easy for her, have we?”
Jake nods slowly, his expression softening. “No, we haven’t.”
“So what do we do?” Xayden asks, his voice quieter now, his foot finally stilling against the floor.
I take a deep breath, the words heavier than I expect. “We stop acting like it’s all on her. We stop expecting her to fix what we broke.”
West straightens, his jaw tightening. “You mean we make it right.”
Jake steps forward, his voice steady. “We earn her forgiveness. For everything.”
Xayden looks at each of us, the hesitation in his eyes slowly giving way to something steadier. “You think it’s that simple?”
“No,” I admit. “It’s not. But it’s worth it. She’s worth it.”
Especially now—because Owen’s already playing his hand.
And if we don’t step up we might lose her all over again.
The silence that follows feels different. Not as heavy, not as uncertain.
For the first time, it feels like we’re all on the same page.
The same goal.
We’re going to fix this.
And this time, we’re not going to lose her.
The secondI step out of the car, I see them. Paparazzi line the sidewalk like vultures, cameras clicking and flashes firing in rapid succession. It feels like stepping onto a stage I never asked to be on, but I know exactly who’s pulling the strings. Shelley.
Ashlyn doesn’t flinch, though. She straightens her shoulders, lifting her chin, and her lips tilt into a practiced, serene smile. She’s used to this. It’s her world. But I see the tension in her neck, the way her fingers grip her clutch a little tighter than usual.
I step closer, offering her my arm. “Ready?”
Her smile shifts slightly, but it’s still more for them than for me. “Do I have a choice?”
