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Published:
2025-11-16
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2025-11-16
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3,662
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2/4
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It's over, isn't it?

Summary:

Helen was trully head over heels for this fucking useless penis-bearing person. He has a huge asshole. Madeline knew that. A few silly jokes about her tits and some pretty puppy eyes was also that she had used to get him drooling all over her.
He was a man, after all.
A pathetic little man who was only able to think not by using his brain, but his dick.
It was so, so easy to make him hers, to show Helen that she was the only one who could marry her.
But… Madeline would break her heart by doing so.
“There’s… there’s something I wanted to tell you, Mad.”
It was a whisper, the secret that she had been hiding from her for months now.

Notes:

Hope u like it!!! Comments are suuuuuper welcome!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: April 10

Chapter Text

Madeline couldn’t be happier.

Her life was absolutely perfect. She had managed to convince Helen and her pathetic fiancee to have dinner at her apartment in New York. She already had the best plan ever; seduce that stupid man to show Helen that, if she couldn’t be hers, no one could have her.

It was all going just as she had imagined. She only needed to put on a nightgown that showed more skin than it should, play with her hair and smile at the idiot that Helen was somehow in love with.

It was a piece of cake.

Until it wasn’t.

It was as if Helen didn’t care about her games anymore. As if she didn’t care that her fiancé was practically drooling over Madeline and that a certain area of his pants was… rising. As if she was saying, “I know a secret that would destroy you, Madeline. You’re not the only one with an ace up your sleeve.”

At first, Madeline didn’t think much of it. She assumed Helen was drunk, or that her new medication was affecting her more than it should.

Until Helen gave her a small nod.

“Mad, why don’t you show me your apartment?”

Madeline’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly, that proud smile never leaving her lips. She tilted her head, pretending to think it over, though both of them already knew what her answer was going to be.

“Of course,” she finally said. “How rude of me to keeping my dear and old, old friend from seeing my own home.”

Madeline gestured toward the hallway with a dramatic sweep of her arm. Helen stood up, leaning on the table with an effort that Madeline thought was exaggerated. Ernest went to help her up, but she smiled and told him it wasn't necessary, telling him to sit down and wait for her and Madeline to return.

Helen followed her slowly, with a smile on her face. When they reached the end of the hallway, Helen stopped at the door of Madeline’s bedroom. Madeline hesitated for a fraction of a second, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She could feel Helen’s eyes on her, expectant, amused.

“You want to see everything, do you?” Madeline asked softly, her voice dipping lower.

“Of course,” Helen said. “Isn’t that what friends are for?”

“Always so dramatic,” Madeline replied.

She pushed the door open.

The bedroom was exactly as theatrical as one would expect from Madeline Ashton; it looked more like a theater than a bedroom. Velvet curtains, mirrors and even chandeliers. Helen stepped inside slowly, admiring the room.

“So this is where all the magic happens,” she said.

Madeline smiled.

“If by magic you mean the place where I fuck my co-starts then, yeah.”

Helen giggled, but not because she found that funny, but because she was a nervous wreck. She sat down on the bed, resting her hand on her stomach. The ring on her finger shimmered under the street lights entering by the enormous window of the bedroom.

Madeline sat down next to her, leaning closer than necessary.

“So… you are in love with Mr Plastic Surgeon?”

“That’s right.”

Fuck.

Helen was trully head over heels for this fucking useless penis-bearing person. He has a huge asshole. Madeline knew that. A few silly jokes about her tits and some pretty puppy eyes was also that she had used to get him drooling all over her.

He was a man, after all. A pathetic little man who was only able to think not by using his brain, but his dick.

It was so, so easy to make him hers, to show Helen that she was the only one who could marry her.

But… Madeline would break her heart by doing so.

“There’s… there’s something I wanted to tell you, Mad.”

It was a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure if she was ready to finally say it out loud.

“Hit me,” Madeline replied, though her voice was also trembling.

Helen let out a shaky breath and held her hand.

“I’m pregnant.” 

Madeline blinked, her throat going dry.

The whole world stopped right there.

“What?”

Helen laughed softly, one hand covering her mouth.

“I’m four months pregnant.” She repeated.

Madeline bit her lip, not knowing what to say, but Helen didn’t seem to notice, smiling again.

And she was radiant.

Her cheeks were flushed, her heart beating quickly against her chest and her eyes glowing with that infuriating happiness Madeline could never replicate.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Helen said. “Ernest was over the moon when I told him. He cried! I’ve never seen him cry before, Maddie.”

Madeline forced a smile. That nickname that she had always loved suddenly sounded like the gunshot of a gun whose bullet had lodged deep within her chest.

“How… touching.”

Helen giggled, mistaking Madeline’s stiffness for surprise.

“I haven’t even told you the best part yet.”

She turned to get a better look at Madeline, holding her hand tighter.

“It’s a girl.”

She giggled as if she was a stupid college girl with a crush.

And then she did it.

She lifted her sweater slightly, revealing the soft curve of her belly. Madeline stared at it, completely horrified, but Helen (again) didn’t even notice.

“Look,” she whispered, her voice tender. “You can feel her. The doctor says she’s the size of a pear now.”

“Helen, I…”

“Oh, come on,” she said, taking Madeline’s hand and pressing it against her stomach. “I really want you to feel her.”

She felt the faintest flutter of something moving beneath the skin. She gasped softly. Her eyes fixed back to Helen, just in time to watch a tear run down her cheek.

“I’m going to be a mother, Maddie.”

Madeline swallowed hard, trying not to let her expression crack. She forced out a brittle laugh, the same one that she used when they made her uncomfortable questions in interviews.

She kept staring at her, at that gentle, glowing smile and, for the first time in years, she felt something close to hatred twist in her chest.

Was it really worth it to steal Ernest now? Was it okay to destroy this new family, to make this little girl grow up without a father? To hurt Helen? No, she needed her now more than ever.

She hugged her.

“You’re going to be such an amazing mother, Hel.”
Helen finally sobbed, clinging to her, smiling. Madeline felt as Helen’s tears met her skin and sighed, hugging her even tighter.

The door creaked open softly and Ernest stepped inside.

Madeline pretended that she hadn’t noticed him, hugging Helen even tighter, as if she was keeping her from his reach.

“Helen,” he said softly, approaching the bed. “We should get going. You need to rest.”

Helen turned her head slightly, her tears glimmering in the soft light.

She let go of Madeline.

“Oh, come on. I think I can stay awake for a couple of hours after my bedtime,” she whispered, almost teasing him.

Ernest brushed a stray lock of her auburn hair behind her ear, smiling gently.

“I know, my love. But your body needs it. Let me help you, okay?”

Helen’s lips curved into a small, reluctant smile. She didn’t argue, only leaned into him, letting go of Madeline without hesitation. Madeline watched, her chest tightening, as Helen’s hand found Ernest’s again, fingers lacing together with effortless intimacy.

Helen’s happiness was obvious, radiating in the soft press of her hand against Ernest’s.

Madeline got quickly on her feet, whipping away her tears with the back of her hand.

“Well, drive safely,” Madeline said softly, stepping back. “I would accompany you to the door but I… I’m really tired. You’ll have to excuse me.”

Ernest nodded and Helen smiled gently and Madeline knew, in that quiet, fleeting moment, that Helen was truly, entirely and utterly in love.

She watched her move with careful steps, every motion threaded with trust and love. And when Helen reached the door, she looked back one last time, eyes meeting Madeline’s.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay, Mad?”

Madeline nodded, fighting the tears.

Ernest smiled at her.

“She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Madeline whispered. “You are a very lucky guy, Ernest.”

 

 

“Breathe in,” Madeline muttered, tugging delicately at the fabric.

“I am breathing,” Helen laughed, her voice slightly breathless. “It’s not the corset, it’s the baby. She’s taking up all the space.”

“Yeah, well. I told you that it was a stupid idea to get married while being nine months pregnant.”

Helen caught her reflection in the mirror.

She had her blonde hair down, curled gently and with a little flower crown that somehow made her look younger. Her blue dress was too… wild for a wedding, but she didn’t seem to care. She had chosen it the very same moment that Helen was dating Ernest.

That dress was the secret weapon that was going to steal him from her.

But know, after that fucking pregnancy, her plan was completely useless.

Helen giggled, her hand drifting instinctively to her belly.

“You’ve been so tense lately. It looks like you’re the one who is getting married.”

Madeline let out a short, humorless laugh.

If only.

Helen turned to look at her and, for a moment, there was silence. Madeline looked stunning, of course, even in her bitterness. Helen, on the other hand, was chaos. Soft, round, real. Her cheeks flushed, her hands trembling as she adjusted the veil Madeline had placed.

“You’re not happy for me,” Helen said quietly.

She wasn't scolding her. It was simply a reflection, something neither of them could ignore.

Madeline hesitated. Her fingers lingered on the veil.

“I’m… trying to be.”

Helen tilted her head, her tone still gentle but firm.

“Well, you could try harder. You are a two time Academy Award nominee.”
“Yeah, exactly. I’m a nominee for a reason.”

Helen chuckled, then gasped something. Madeline knelt in front of her, but Helen took her hand to show her that she was fine.

“She’s kicking,” she said suddenly, placing Madeline’s hand on her belly. “She’s probably excited. Big day for her too.”

Madeline felt the flutter beneath her palm, that same violent reminder of life that she was starting to hate, and forced out a thin smile.

“Yes. I feel her.”

Helen’s eyes softened.

“I want her to grow up knowing you, Maddie. You’ve always been part of my life and I want her to know that.”

Madeline blinked hard, something sharp and unbearable twisting inside her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said quickly, her tone sharp. “She’ll have Ernest and you. She won’t need me and neither will you.”

Helen turned back to the mirror, sighing as Madeline adjusted her veil one last time.

“Where is this coming  from, Mad?”

“It’s just the truth, Helen. And you know that.”

Madeline leaned closer, her reflection hovering just behind Helen’s shoulder

“You’re being cruel,” Helen muttered.

She wasn't angry, not really, just tired.

The kind of tired Madeline had watched settle into her bones these last years, gentle but irreversible.

“You’re my best friend. Of course I’ll still need you.”

“No. You’ll need him. And your daughter. And that’s how it should be.”

Helen turned fully this time, veil brushing her cheek. Her eyes were shimmering and Madeline could feel the gentleness and love in them.

“What are you so afraid of?” Helen asked softly. “Losing me?”

Madeline almost confessed everything to her.

That she loved her, that she was jealous of Ernest, that she was afraid of losing Helen but, instead, she smirked

“Please. Don’t get sentimental, Sharp.”

Helen reached out and took her hand, noticing that she was lying.

She got on her feet, although Madeline and her body told her not to, and she hugged her.

“You are not losing me, Maddie. Marriage doesn’t erase everything we’ve lived.”

Madeline swallowed.

She clinged to Helen, feeling the kicks of the baby against her own stomach, making her sick. She finally forced a smile and let go of her hand before she cracked open right there on the vanity stool.

A knock came at the door. Stefan.

“They’re ready downstairs!”

Helen beamed, nerves and excitement flickering through her like static.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her bouquet. “Walk with me?”

“Of course.”

They stepped into the hallway, Helen moving forward toward the life waiting for her, while Madeline was just a silent shadow at her side.

The music drifted up from below.

They could already hear the guest muttering.

The doors to the ceremony stood open.

Helen paused at the top of the stairs and squeezed Madeline’s fingers again, the last private gesture they would share before everything changed.

“Thank you for being here,” Helen whispered. “It means everything to me.”

Madeline’s throat burned. She couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t stop Helen from doing this.

So she just offered her arm, and Helen looped hers through it, bouquet trembling slightly in her hand. The music rose, soft and golden, and every face in the room turned as they stepped forward.

They moved together down the aisle, step by slow step, Madeline feeling every heartbeat like a countdown. Helen’s arm pressed warm against hers, the veil brushing Madeline’s bare shoulder with each step.

They reached the altar. Madeline placed Helen’s hand into Ernest’s, her fingers lingering a second too long before she let go. Before stepping back, she leaned in and kissed Helen’s cheek affectionately, leaving the mark of her lipstick there, like a scar, a reminder that she was there before anyone else.

But Ernest took his handkerchief and he gently brushed it across Helen's cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup and erasing Madeline’s kiss. Helen looked up, gazing at him with pure love.

Madeline finally stepped back, heart hollowing, and watched in horror as Ernest held Helen’s hands and kissed them.

There was nothing to be done.

But then Helen gasped.

Madeline lifted her head, thinking that finally Helen had realized that she had made the wrong decision. She had doubled over slightly, her hand clutching Ernest’s as if her life depended on it. Ernest froze beside her, blinking as if his brain had short-circuited.

“Helen?”

The guests began to murmur, a ripple of confusion spreading through the crowd. Then Helen looked down, her face white as her dress. Her eyes were wide, terrified, and then she sucked in another breath through her teeth.

“Madeline,” she whispered, “I… I think…”

She looked down.

A spreading puddle shimmered at her feet.

Her water had broken.

Ernest stared at the floor, then at Helen, then at the floor again, like he was trying to solve a puzzle with too many pieces.

“Oh… oh, boy…” he stammered.

She gripped his sleeve, panicked, but he let out a pathetic squeak and collapsed like a sack of potatoes.

Madeline didn’t think. She didn’t hesitate.

She moved.

One arm under Helen’s shoulders, one around her waist, she hauled her upright as Helen cried out, clutching her stomach.

“You were right,” Madeline muttered, already steering her away from the altar. “You both need me.”

Helen couldn’t even laugh at the joke.

“Maddie… it hurts…” Helen’s voice broke, raw with fear. “It’s too soon, it’s too soon…”

“I know, baby. Just breathe. I’m taking you to the hospital right now.”

Chapter 2: Everything Madeline couldn’t give her.

Chapter Text

When that cry finally broke the air, both Helen and Madeline froze.

The doctor turned to them, smiling and holding something small, red and noisy.

“A healthy baby girl,” he said proudly.

Helen’s breath caught.

He placed the baby in her arms and her fingers trembled uncontrollably as she caressed her daughter’s back. The child’s skin was still warm and slicking, staining what was left of her wedding dress. Her little chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, a thin wail catching in her throat before fading again.

Madeline leaned closer to her, brushing Helen’s damp hair from her face.

“You are a mother, Hel,” she said tenderly, although she herself was unable to believe it.

But Helen didn’t respond. She just looked down again at her baby, tracing the tiny curve of her cheek with a shaking finger. She stared at the tiny face, pink and scrunched but somehow perfect.

Then one of the nurses adjusted the blankets, helped Helen position the baby and showed how to cradle her tiny head in the crook of her arm. She then smiled politely and left the room.

The baby searched, mouth open, making little hungry noises. Helen guided her gently and she finally latched. She gasped softly as her daughter suckled greedily, her tiny fingers flexing against her chest. Helen sank back.

“Oh,” she whispered, “I’m a mother, Maddie.”

The words came out like a revelation, like a secret that deep down both of them knew. Madeline stared at her and then at the child. Without saying a word, she got on the bed next to Helen, who simply cuddled against her shoulder, as if they were the two teenagers sharing a dorm in college again.

“She is as beautiful as her mama”, she said quietly.

Helen laughed through tears, pressing the baby closer.

“She looks like him.”

And that was the moment Madeline’s stomach twisted.

Him.

Ernest.

That fucking bastard who had fainted in the middle of the ceremony.

Madeline’s gaze lingered on the baby, to that small and helpless thing that carried his blood.

It disgusted her.

But then she saw Helen’s expression again and her guilt became more powerful than her anger. She didn’t have the right to hate this child who also carried Helen’s blood.

Helen suddenly turned to Madeline.

“Could you…” She paused, blinking hard. “Could you hold your goddaughter for a moment, please? I could really use a nap now.”

Madeline froze.

“My…my what?” she squeaked.

Helen didn’t even notice her panic. She gently tried to lift the baby toward Madeline, but she had barely any strength, so Madeline herself had to hurry forward and practically scoop the baby away before she dropped her.

“I thought Ernest had told you…” Helen muttered, falling asleep.

“Oh, yeah, sure. Ernest, the same dude who fainted at his own wedding when his soon-to-be-wife’s water broke.”

Madeline sat down on a chair and looked at the baby cuddling in her arms; her goddaughter. And there was something about that little face that made her finally break. Tears burned behind her eyes, spilling before she could stop them. She gazed at Helen to make sure that she was really asleep and looked down at the little girl again.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered, clutching the baby closer. “You’re the living proof that she’ll never be mine.”

Her voice cracked, a sob tearing through her throat. The baby stirred again, as if she was sensing the tension. Her face scrunched up, and a small wail escaped her lips. Madeline instantly shushed her, rocking her gently in her arms.

“Shh… no, no, hey, don’t be a dick. We can’t cry at the same time” she muttered. “You’ll wake your mother.”

The child’s cries faded slowly, replaced by soft hiccups. Madeline kept rocking her, her tears falling freely now and falling onto the baby’s blanket, small dark circles on the white cotton.

The baby sighed, and for a fleeting moment, her tiny hand brushed against Madeline’s cheek, as if to wipe away her tears.

Madeline laughed weakly, her voice breaking.

“You already have her kindness.”

The door opened suddenly, the sound slicing through the quiet scene like thunder.

Helen stirred, blinking groggily, and the first thing she saw was Madeline holding the baby close to her chest. For a second, she thought she was dreaming again.

Then Ernest’s voice cut through the haze.

“Oh, my God!”

He was already halfway across the room, his suit replaced by a clean shirt hastily buttoned wrong. He had clearly gone home to change his clothes before going to the hospital, but it didn’t seem like he had brought some clean clothes for the mother of his daughter.

Helen smiled softly when she saw him, sitting back in the bed as she watched him run across the room. She quickly ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make herself look decent.

“Darling,” she called him, her voice barely above a whisper but full with affection.

But he didn’t even bother looking at her. He ran towards Madeline, whose arms stiffened instinctively around the child. She didn’t move, but her body tensed in quiet, possessive defiance.

Helen blinked again, confused.

“Ernest…?”

He didn’t answer her. His eyes were locked on the baby, his whole body trembling, but he managed to reach out a shaking hand.

“Give her to me.”

Madeline hesitated, wandering how the fuck had a man like him manage to be with a woman as wonderful as Helen. She looked at her, who was clearly hurt about the fact that Ernest hadn’t even looked at her.

“Madeline, go on,” she said, clearly tired.

She obeyed and gave the baby to Ernest, who held her like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

“My God… look at her…”

Helen watched from the bed, still a little disoriented.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Ernest finally seemed to acknowledge her presence. He sat down at the edge of the bed, but he kept his gaze fixed on their daughter instead of on Helen.

“She’s perfect,” he said, not looking up. “Absolutely perfect.”

Madeline forced a smile.

“I think I should go.”

Helen frowned slightly, confused by the sudden change in her voice.

“Are you leaving already, Mad?”

“It’s okay,” Madeline said, nodding at Ernest and the baby. “You need to be with your family now. You should get some sleep, baby.”

Helen wanted to argue, but she knew that it was useless. Instead, she looked back at Ernest, who was whispering something to the baby, completely lost in her tiny, perfect world.

Madeline took a step back when she finally realized that Helen finally had everything she wanted.

Everything that Madeline couldn’t give her.

Notes:

PLEASE DON'T KILL ME PRETTY PLEASE