The silence in the apartment is thick when you walk in, your body weighed down by exhaustion. It’s been one of those days—the kind where nothing goes right, where everything feels too loud, too much. Your mind won’t stop racing, thoughts colliding like a car crash you can’t look away from.

Rafe notices immediately. He’s sprawled on the couch, but the second he sees you, he sits up, eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

You shake your head, dropping your bag by the door. “Nothing.”

It’s a lie. He knows it. And when you don’t move—don’t even take off your coat—he’s on his feet, closing the space between you.

“Baby,” his voice is softer now, careful. “Talk to me.”

Your breath stutters, hands clenching into fists at your sides. The emotions are all there, bubbling under the surface, threatening to break through. But before you can even think about holding them back, Rafe pulls you against him, his arms caging you in.

The dam cracks.

A shaky breath. A single tear. Then another. And suddenly, you’re sinking into him, hands gripping his hoodie as if letting go means falling apart completely.

Rafe doesn’t say anything—he just holds you tighter, his lips pressing against the top of your head. “I got you,” he murmurs, his voice steady, unwavering. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

And somehow, with his heartbeat in your ear, with his warmth surrounding you, the world doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.