Sequel to the story "When the Script Changes."
This one, will follow Freen and Becky as they navigate life as new parents, balancing their love, responsibilities, and the chaos of raising Mon and Pin while still keeping their relationship strong.
She never wore soft colors, never wore flowy dresses, never embraced the delicate elegance that Mon loved so much.
Her wardrobe consisted of black, navy, white, and the occasional dark green or brown—practical, sharp, efficient.
But for Mon?
For the love of her life?
She would do anything.
So when Mon had chosen a pink color for the bridesmaid dresses, Sam didn't complain. She didn't make a fuss.
And she hadn't hesitated either. She simply took the color, bought a soft pink dress as her wedding dress, put it on, and braced herself for the inevitable teasing from their friends.
What she hadn't prepared for?
Mon's reaction.
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The room was buzzing with excitement. People moved in every direction—stylists, makeup artists, planners, friends and family, all preparing for the wedding.
Mon had just finished getting ready, standing before the mirror in her white wedding gown. The lace, the intricate embroidery, the delicate details—it was everything she had dreamed of.
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But as she turned, preparing to step out and see the final touches of the venue—
She saw her.
Sam.
Standing there, in a dress that Mon never thought she'd ever see her wear.
A soft, flowing pink gown that hugged her figure perfectly.
The slit up the side showed off her toned legs, and the way the fabric hugged her bust and flowed down her body made her look effortlessly elegant.
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Mon's breath hitched.
The world tilted for a moment.
She had always known Sam was beautiful.
But this?
This was something else entirely.
Sam, who always exuded power and confidence in her usual tailored suits, looked like she had just stepped out of a dream.
Her hair fell in soft waves, her makeup was minimal but flawless, and there was something in her eyes—something only for Mon—that made her heart skip a beat.
Sam smirked.
"You're staring."
Mon swallowed. "I— I just—"
She couldn't speak.
Couldn't form words.
Because this was Sam, the woman who had protected her, loved her, fought for her, and now—
Now, she had wrapped herself in Mon's world.
Mon's color.
Mon's love.
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Sam shifted, looking a little self-conscious. "I know I don't usually wear stuff like this, but..."
She glanced down at the dress.
Mon stepped forward, heart racing.
"You look... breathtaking."
Sam's teasing smirk faltered for a second, her usual cocky confidence cracking just slightly under the weight of Mon's gaze.
"You really think so?" she asked, voice quieter than usual.
Mon reached for her, fingers brushing against her wrist.
"I think," Mon said softly, "that I just fell in love with you all over again."
Sam exhaled, shaking her head with a small, helpless smile.
"You know, Mon..." Sam's voice dropped to something dangerously soft, "you could ask me to wear anything, and I'd do it."
Mon's lips curled into the gentlest, most adoring smile.
"I didn't ask you to wear pink."
"I know," Sam said. "But I wanted to."
Mon felt her chest tighten with emotion.
She knew what this meant.
Knew what wearing this color meant to Sam.
This wasn't just about a dress.
It was about love.
About becoming part of Mon's world, fully, completely, with no hesitation.
Mon cupped Sam's face, eyes glistening.
"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she whispered.
Sam leaned into her touch, eyes softening.
"Yeah?" she murmured, a teasing edge still present. "Better than that wedding dress you're wearing?"
Mon laughed, pressing a gentle kiss to Sam's knuckles.
"You are my everything, Sam. In a suit, in a dress, in nothing at all—"
Sam choked. "Mon—"
Mon just grinned, mischievous and bright.
"—you will always be the most beautiful thing in the room."
Sam closed her eyes briefly, as if trying to keep herself together.
And when she opened them again—
There was so much love in them, Mon thought she might drown.
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When they stepped outside together, the world erupted in cheers.
Friends and family whistled, clapped, and cheered, seeing Sam in something so unlike her usual self.
Becky smirked, leaning into Freen. "I knew she'd do it."
Freen laughed, shaking her head. "Only for Mon."
Pin?
Pin was crying. "She wore pink," she whispered dramatically. "Sam wore pink."
Mon and Sam exchanged a look, both shaking their heads at the absolute chaos their families brought.
But as Sam looked down at Mon, hand in hers, the noise faded.
Because the only thing that mattered?
Was this moment.
The color pink had always belonged to Mon.
But now?
Now, it belonged to Sam too.
Because Sam didn't just wear pink.
She wore Mon's love.
And she would wear it forever.
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Note: 6 more chapters until this story comes to an end.. 🥹
