Imagines with Jenna Ortega

The Marriage 5

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, but Jenna hadn't slept a single hour. The divorce papers lay untouched on the table, taunting her all night.

By dawn, her decision was clear.

She dragged her fingers over the crumpled edges of the envelope and whispered to herself, "No. I'm not signing this. Not now... not ever."

Her chest tightened, but this time it wasn't just fear—it was something heavier, something she had been denying for years. Every time Y/n's cold eyes met hers, every time she caught herself watching Y/n with Jazz, every time last night replayed in her head—her skin burning, her lips aching—it hit her harder.

She felt something. Maybe she always had.

And now she couldn't let Y/n walk away.

Jenna straightened, pushing the papers aside with new determination. She had been reckless, careless, cruel—but if she wanted to keep Y/n, she'd have to fight for her. Convince her. Prove she wasn't just playing games anymore.

For the first time, Jenna wasn't running away from Y/n. She was going to run to her.

The glass doors to Y/n's office swung open without warning, startling the assistant outside. Jenna didn't wait for permission. She marched in, clutching the unsigned divorce papers in her hand.

Y/n looked up from her desk, her expression unreadable, already dressed in her usual armor of calm. "Have you decided?," she said flatly.

Jenna ignored the sting in her chest and dropped the envelope onto the desk. "I'm not signing them."

Y/n's eyes flickered to the papers, then back to Jenna, as if the words meant nothing. "This isn't up for negotiation, Jenna. It's done."

"No, it's not!" Jenna snapped, her voice cracking. "You don't get to just—just throw me away like this. I know I've screwed up, I know I've hurt you, but..." Her throat tightened as she searched for words she had never dared to say before. "...but I can't lose you, Y/n."

Y/n leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her face cold, but Jenna could see the storm behind her eyes.

"You had three years to figure that out," Y/n said quietly, cutting. "Three years of scandals, lies, and pushing me away. And now, suddenly, you feel something?"

Jenna stepped closer, her hands trembling. "Yes! I don't even know when it started, but it's there, and it's real. And if you leave me now, I'll never forgive myself."

The office went still, the tension pressing down on both of them. Y/n's jaw clenched, her knuckles white against the chair. Jenna's chest rose and fell, waiting—begging—for a crack in Y/n's icy wall.

Y/n crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair with a sharp, humorless laugh. Her gaze pinned Jenna where she stood, like a blade pressing to skin.

"So what is it you want now, Jenna?" she asked, voice low and bitter. "Money? More freedom to sleep around without consequences? Another scandal I have to clean up for you?"

Jenna flinched as if she'd been struck. "No! God, no, Y/n... that's not what I—"

"Then what?" Y/n cut her off, her tone hardening. "Because you've had everything, Jenna. Fame, the spotlight, affairs I turned a blind eye to. You had it all. And still, somehow, you're here in my office acting like you're the one who's been wronged."

Jenna's lips parted, but no words came out at first. Her throat burned, her pride clawing at her to fight back, but all she could manage was a shaky whisper.

"I just... I want you."

The words hung in the air like a fragile truth neither of them could escape from.