I know we all need something good, so I wanted to do some updates. I have started school, and I am trying to finish this Supernatural Novel. But if you guys want, I can add it here as Samcedes to give you a taste. Until then, enjoy the update!

As Mercedes tucked the girls into bed, her mind returned to her conversation with Sam; she couldn't get past her feelings of confusion and loss. She didn't know if she wanted to be with him again or if she could trust him, but she didn't know if she could close the door either.

Curing up on the couch with a glass of wine, Mercedes set up her laptop on the table. She needed to talk—to vent—to process everything Sam had said, and she figured the best way to do it was to enlist the help of her girls.

With a deep breath, she clicked into the group chat and started a video call. It didn't take long for Zara, Santana, and Quinn to pop onto the screen, their faces appearing in separate squares.

"Okay, finally," Santana said, adjusting her screen. "We were about to send a search party for your ass. You can't disappear from the world when you have my girls."

"I swear, Santana people think the twins are yours the way you act sometimes." Mercedes sighed.

"Yeah, well, you took them from me, and I am devastated." She said dramatically.

"San, you are on vacation visiting Britt, and I wouldn't let you take them; stop being so dramatic."

"She is dramatic, but seriously, Merce, you've been MIA all day," Zara added, her brows raised in curiosity. "What's going on?"

Mercedes sighed, rubbing her temple. "It's Sam. We talked."

Quinn's eyes widened. "Wait, what happened?"

Mercedes exhaled, staring at the screen for a second before finally saying, "He told me I should start dating someone."

There was a beat of silence before Santana snorted so loudly it made Quinn jump. "I'm sorry, what?"

"He said I should date other people," Mercedes repeated, swirling the wine in her glass. "I'm still trying to figure out if I heard him right," Mercedes admitted, shaking her head. "He basically said he knows he doesn't deserve me, and if I don't want him, I can't shut myself off from love from other people."

Quinn blinked. "And how are we feeling about this?"

Mercedes hesitated. "I don't know. At first, I was shocked. Then I was mad. Now…" She let out a deep sigh. "Now I just feel confused."

"Oh, girl," Zara groaned, shaking her head. "What is this, reverse psychology? He's telling you to date someone else, so you'll want him more?"

"I don't think so," Mercedes murmured. "It didn't feel manipulative. It felt… honest. Like for the first time, he wasn't trying to win me back."

Santana rolled her eyes. "So let me get this straight. He broke your heart. Ruined your ability to trust men. And now he's acting like some noble martyr who wants you to go and 'find yourself' before getting back with him. What is this, a rom-com from the early 2000s? Is Chad Michael Murray or Joshua Jackson gonna show up brooding and claiming their undying love for you?"

"The hell?" Zara said, shaking her head. "San, please tell Britt to stop making you watch RomComs to get in the mood; it's ruining you…that being said, she does kinda have a point, Merce."

Mercedes groaned. "I knew you guys were gonna be like this."

Santana smirked. "You knew we were gonna be right?"

"I mean," Quinn said carefully, "he kind of has a point."

All eyes snapped to her, and Zara gasped dramatically. "Quinn! What kind of betrayal is this?"

Quinn held up her hands. "Hear me out! He's acknowledging that he hurt her. That he doesn't want to push her into something she's not ready for. Isn't that what we wanted from him? To recognize the damage he did?"

Mercedes bit her lip, thinking about it.

Santana nodded slowly. "Okay, but let's not ignore the fact that he's also laying down a challenge. Like, 'Oh, if you go out there and see what's available, you'll realize I'm still the best option.'"

Zara snapped her fingers. "Exactly! And what happens if she does date and finds out someone else is a better fit?"

Santana grinned. "Then Sam will lose his damn mind, and I, for one, would pay good money to see it."

Mercedes sighed, running a hand through her curls. "Y'all are missing the point. It's not about Sam losing his mind. It's about me. Do I want to move on? Or do I want to give him another chance?"

Silence settled over the group for a moment. Then Quinn asked gently, "Do you?"

Mercedes swallowed hard. "I don't know. I always thought I was over Sam Evans, but then I saw him with our daughter, and I wondered if I should give him a chance so we can be a family."

Santana huffed. "I still say you should make him suffer a little if you do want to take him back."

Zara nodded. "Agreed. Maybe go on a date. Just to see. You can't know how you feel until you do it."

Mercedes shot them both a glare. "I am not using another man to play games with Sam. That's not the kind of woman I am."

Quinn frowned. "What even brought all this on, is my question?"

Mercedes took another sip of wine before setting her glass down with a sigh. "Well, Christian showed up."

Santana's eyebrows shot up. "That hot Laywer Christian? Ohhh, now this is getting good. Explain."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "He came by to pick up some paperwork for my fashion line, and I left the two alone while I went to get it."

Quinn leaned in, intrigued. "And?"

Mercedes hesitated. "And apparently, while I was gone, Christian made it very clear to Sam that he intended to ask me out."

The call exploded.

Santana almost fell out of her chair laughing. Zara gasped so dramatically that her earring nearly flew off, and Quinn covered her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, this is rich," Santana cackled. "Please, please tell me Sam lost his mind."

Mercedes gave her a dry look. "Oh, he laughed at first. Told Christian he didn't have a chance because I was his wife and would be again."

Quinn interrupted, tilting her head. "What did Christian say to that?"

Mercedes exhaled, still processing it herself. "He said that Sam was a sorry excuse for a man if he was proud that he broke me so bad I couldn't even trust another man."

Silence.

Then Santana screamed, laughing. "HE READ HIM FOR FILTH!"

"HE REALLY DID," Zara yelled, clutching her chest like she had been the one personally attacked.

"Oh my God," Quinn muttered, covering her face. "That's savage."

Mercedes let out a slow breath. "Yeah. And Sam didn't have a comeback because he was…I dunno."

"Oh, so Christian came in with the truth bombs," Quinn mused, sipping from her wine.

"And he's fine," Zara added. "He's like, Liam Hemsworth-level fine."

Santana hummed in agreement. "Mm. Girl, why aren't you dating him again?"

Mercedes groaned. "Not you, too."

"Not just me, all of us," Santana smirked.

Zara nodded eagerly. "I mean, the man checks all the boxes. Smart, successful, gorgeous, and clearly has zero fear when it comes to calling Sam out on his bull—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Mercedes interrupted, rubbing her temple.

Quinn raised a brow. "But you told him no, didn't you?"

Mercedes sighed. "Yeah. He asked me when I would get that drink with him, and I told him I couldn't. That I have a lot going on."

The call went silent again before Santana deadpanned, "Girl. Be for real."

"I do have a lot going on!" Mercedes argued.

"But do you want to go out with him?" Quinn asked carefully.

Mercedes hesitated. "I… I don't know. I like Christian, but I just—I don't see him like that."

Zara smirked. "So you don't see a very fine, very emotionally mature man that is interested in you as anything other than a friend, but you're still stuck on Sam Evans and his enlightenment speech."

Mercedes sighed, running a hand through her curls. "I don't know what I want. Sam told me I needed to date and figure out if I even wanted him before I thought about forgiving him. And maybe he's right."

Santana scoffed. "Oh, now he's right?"

Quinn leaned in. "But do you want to date? Or are you just saying it because Sam put the idea in your head?"

Mercedes hesitated, gripping her wine glass. "I don't know. I don't want to open myself up like that again."

Zara tilted her head. "Then maybe you should find out. You have to say yes to Christian."

Mercedes swallowed, looking between the faces of her best friends. She knew they were right.

But taking that first step? That was the hardest part.

Mercedes stood in front of her full-length mirror, smoothing down the fabric of her dress with a sigh. It was simple, modest, and safe. A knee-length black number with sleeves that covered her shoulders, structured but uninspired. It was the dress you wore to a business dinner or, worse… a funeral.

Which, in a way, was fitting.

Because even though this was technically a date, it felt like she was mourning something.

She had spent the past week buried in work, throwing herself into her designs to avoid thinking too much about Sam's words. But Christian had asked her out again, and this time, for reasons she wasn't even sure she understood, she had said yes.

The entire week was spent trying to find ways to back out of it. When she learned that her parents and Sam couldn't watch the girls, she was sure she could, but then Sam stepped,d up, and here she was.

And sadly, she wasn't backing out now.

Taking a deep breath, she reached for her earrings, only to jump slightly when she heard a voice from the hallway.

"Really, Mercedes? You are a fashion designer; you and I both know you have better dresses than that."

She spun around to find Sam leaning casually against her doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, sleeves rolled up, exposing his biceps, and his green eyes filled with something unreadable.

She raised a brow. "Are you really telling me to dress sexier for a date with another man?"

Sam shrugged, pushing off the frame. "I mean… if it's gotta be real, it's gotta be real. And you, in that dress, isn't real."

Mercedes folded her arms. "So what, you want me to show up in a red-hot, body-hugging, knock-him-dead dress? Giving him the impression I want him to take me back to his place?"

Sam smirked. "Well, I wouldn't mind, but I'm not the one you're trying to impress, am I?"

Mercedes narrowed her eyes. "You are so irritating. And don't think I don't know that you decided to babysit so that you could be here for my date."

"I am neither confirming nor denying that." Sam said, stepping into the room and making a beeline for her closet. He flipped through the hangers with practiced ease before pulling out a dress that made Mercedes' stomach flip.

It was one of her designs, a deep emerald green dress she made for herself one night, the kind of dress that clung in all the right places, sleeveless, and a delicate, draping neckline. It was beautiful—and bold.

Sam turned, holding it up against her with a knowing smile. "Now this? This is a date dress. And would you look at that, it's one of your own creations?"

Mercedes hesitated before taking the dress from his hands. "Sam…what if I fall in love with Christian?" she asked, her voice quieter than before. "Would you pack up and leave again?"

Sam's playful demeanor faltered just slightly, but he didn't drop his smile. Instead, he inhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Mercedes, If you're happy," he said slowly, "then I'd be happy for you." He paused, then exhaled. "It would take a long time, but… eventually…but no matter what, I am not going anywhere ever again."

Their eyes locked, and for a second, neither of them moved.

Then, Sam's gaze flickered down at the dress in her hands, and his voice softened. "You look absolutely beautiful in anything, Mercedes."

Her breath hitched slightly. "Sam…" She said softly as he moved towards her. His hand moved to her cheek, and Mercedes's eyes closed, feeling the warmth of his skin, the electricity of his touch.

Leaning in, Sam kissed her cheek, close to the corner of her lips.

He pulled back, staring at her, but before she could respond, the sound of little voices calling out broke the moment.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Sam glanced toward the door and grinned. "Duty calls."

And just like that, he was gone, leaving Mercedes standing in front of her mirror, clutching the dress and questioning everything.

Mercedes was fastening the clasp of her necklace when she heard the doorbell ring. She took a steadying breath, smoothing down the emerald green dress Sam had picked out.

It clung to her curves, dipped elegantly at the neckline, and for the first time since agreeing to this date, she actually felt good.

She wasn't sure if that was because of the dress… or the man who had handed it to her.

Shaking off the thought, she grabbed her clutch and glanced in the mirror before making her way to the door.

Meanwhile, Sam opened the door down the hall to find Christian standing on the porch, looking as polished as expected.

Dressed in a crisp white dress shirt and tailored slacks, with a fitted blazer that only added to his "I have my life together" energy, Christian exuded confidence.

Sam leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he gave the man a once-over.

Christian smirked slightly. "Looks like I'm taking Mercedes out tonight."

Sam let out a slow exhale, then a yawn before he nodded. "Yeah, you are," he said evenly. "But she's coming back home to me."

Christian's smirk twitched, but his blue eyes remained unreadable. "We'll see about that. You probably shouldn't wait up."

Soft footsteps sounded behind them before either of them could say anything else.

Mercedes stepped into view, and both men immediately turned to look at her.

She was stunning. The emerald green dress hugged her figure perfectly, making her brown skin glow under the soft lighting. Her curls cascaded over her shoulders in waves, her makeup flawless but understated.

For a split second, neither man spoke.

Then Mercedes smiled. "Hey, Christian."

His expression softened immediately. "Wow. You look… incredible."

Sam swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his face neutral. She looked better than incredible—she looked like the moment you realize you've lost something you might not get back.

Mercedes walked past him, her perfume lingering in the air as she made her way to the door. As she reached it, she turned slightly, her eyes meeting Sam's.

"I'll be back," she said, her voice holding something unspoken.

Sam held her gaze, his jaw tightening just slightly before he nodded. "Have fun."

Mercedes gave him one last look before stepping outside. Christian offered his arm, and she slid her hand into his.

Sam watched as they walked toward Christian's car, his stomach twisting with something uncomfortably close to regret.

The door clicked shut behind them, and for the first time since Mercedes agreed to the date… Sam wondered if he had just made the biggest mistake of his life.

With Jamie and Anna's peaceful breathing coming through the baby monitor, Sam sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen, barely listening as Puck and Hunter argued over some football stat.

His mind was elsewhere—out at a fancy restaurant with Mercedes and Christian.

"So, let me get this straight," Puck finally said, breaking into Sam's thoughts. "You told Mercedes to date other people? Like… encouraged her? And now she is out with a man who is like every woman's dream?"

Hunter let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Damn, Evans. You really are an idiot."

Sam exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. "I know. You don't have to tell me that!"

Puck leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "Man, I'm asking you this with all due respect—but what the hell is wrong with you?"

Hunter nodded. "Like, real talk. What's the endgame here? You want her to fall in love with someone else?"

"No," Sam admitted, shaking his head. "But she deserves the chance to figure out if I'm what she wants."

Puck blinked. "Evans. Bro. This is not a TV show."

Hunter let out a dry laugh. "For real. You think she's gonna go on a few dates, realize no one compares to you, and come running back into your arms?"

Sam swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "I don't know what she's gonna do. But I am giving her that choice. Because I love her too much to see her so alone."

Puck let out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his shaved head. "Man… what if she doesn't take you back? What if she does fall for this Christian dude?"

Sam was quiet for a long moment before finally saying, "Then I'll get what I deserve."

Hunter's eyes widened slightly. Even Puck, who usually had a smart-ass comment for everything, sat up straighter.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, his voice lower now. "I hurt her in the worst way. She trusted me, and I destroyed that. If I'm not the man she wants, then I have to live with that." He took a deep breath, his hands gripping the fabric of his jeans. "But whether it's with me or someone else… she has to move on."

Puck let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "Damn, man. That's some real grown-up regret right there."

Sam let out a dry chuckle. "Yeah. Guess that's what happens when you realize what you had after you lost it."

Hunter leaned back against the couch. "Well… you still have time; she isn't in love yet."

Sam's lips twitched into a small, humorless smile. "Yeah. But for how long?"

Silence settled over the room, the weight of reality pressing down on Sam's chest.

Because, for the first time since he returned… he wasn't sure if Mercedes was coming back.

Mercedes stepped out of Christian's sleek black car, the cool night air brushing against her skin as he walked around to meet her. He had insisted on picking her up, something about being a gentleman, and she hadn't argued.

Now, as he extended a hand to her, she took it with a small smile. "This place is beautiful," she said, looking up at the grand entrance of Le Jardin, one of the most exclusive restaurants in town.

The warm golden lighting and soft music spilling out onto the cobblestone walkway made the entire scene feel elegant and romantic.

"Only the best," Christian said smoothly, his blue eyes shining as he led her inside. "Figured someone as gorgeous as you deserve nothing less."

Mercedes felt a slight warmth rise to her cheeks at the compliment; he was charming. Confident. A man who knew his worth.

She should want this.

Mercedes took in the ambiance as they sat at a candlelit table near the large windows. Soft piano music played in the background, and the quiet murmur of other diners made the space feel intimate rather than crowded.

Christian smiled at her over his menu. "Order whatever you want."

Mercedes glanced down at the options—truffle risotto, seared duck breast, aged filet mignon—things she would normally enjoy but suddenly felt indifferent toward.

"What do you recommend?" she asked, setting her menu down.

Christian tilted his head slightly, thinking. "I'd say the steak. You strike me as someone who appreciates something classic but with a little flair."

She smirked. "Is that right?"

Christian leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. "I pay attention."

That made her pause. She wasn't used to men noticing the little things about her anymore or pursuing her.

"Okay, I'll trust you," she said, closing her menu.

Christian's lips curved into a pleased smile as he signaled for the waiter.

The conversation flowed easily. Christian talked about his recent travels, his work with Sebastian's firm, and the high-profile cases he'd been handling. Mercedes shared some details about her fashion line; surprisingly, Christian was genuinely interested.

"You're incredibly talented," he said as he cut into his steak. "I knew that already, of course, but hearing you talk about it? The passion you have for it? That's rare."

Mercedes swallowed a bite of her risotto, smiling. "It's my dream. Always has been."

"And you made it happen," Christian said, admiration clear in his tone. "Not many people can say that."

Mercedes felt herself relaxing, even enjoying herself. There was no tension, no baggage between them. It was just… easy.

And yet.

Something was missing.

She wasn't sure what, but it sat like a whisper in the back of her mind, just quiet enough to ignore.

They lingered over dessert, Christian ordering them both a crème brûlée, which he insisted she had to try. He was charming, funny, and intelligent.

And yet.

That whisper grew louder.

By the time they left the restaurant, Mercedes felt something close to content. Not overly excited, but… fine.

Maybe fine was enough.

The drive home was peaceful, Christian keeping the conversation light, his hand resting casually on the gear shift between them. As they pulled up to her house, he cut the engine and turned to her with a warm smile.

"I had a great time tonight," he said, his voice smooth. "I hope you did, too."

Mercedes returned his smile. "I did. Thank you for dinner. It was lovely."

Christian studied her for a moment, then brushed a strand of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, his eyes soft. She wished she felt the spark like she did with Sam.

Then, he leaned in.

She knew it was coming. Knew it was supposed to happen.

So she let him kiss her.

His lips met hers, warm and firm, lingering just long enough to give her time to react.

And she felt…

Nothing.

Not butterflies. Not warmth. Not excitement.

Nothing.

It wasn't unpleasant, it wasn't bad—it just was.

When he pulled away, Christian searched her face, as if waiting for confirmation that she had felt something too.

Mercedes offered him a small, polite smile. "Goodnight, Christian."

His expression flickered, just for a second, before he nodded. "Goodnight, Mercedes."

She stepped out of the car, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she walked toward the house.

Christian waited until she was inside before pulling away.

Mercedes closed the door, leaning against it with a long sigh.

She had tried.

She had really tried.

But it was clear now—there was no getting over Sam Evans.