Picking apples, Ethel Cain songs, and petting horses; they were your favorite things. Well.. there was something else. More like someone else. And his name was Rafe Cameron.

Rafe. He was a bit older than you. Okay, maybe more than a bit. Anyway, when your father started to have a bad back, he hired some help on the farm, so he hired Rafe.

You remember how your first blushed at something he said, when he complemented your french braids, or your little overalls whenever you didn’t feel like wearing dresses.

You hated but also loved feeling this way. All these younger fellas, they never knew what they’re doing. They can’t fulfill your every need. Not like Rafe can.