You walk in. The air between you holds that same electric weight it always has—like something unfinished, something too big to bury. Rafe doesn’t say anything at first. Just watches you with that look—the one only you get. The one that doesn’t burn like it used to. It aches now. It waits.

“Y’know I still got your ring, right?” He says it low, almost like he wasn’t planning to. Like it slipped out of a part of him he doesn’t usually let speak.

He steps closer, fingers tugging the silver chain out from beneath his shirt. Your ring dangles there—worn, maybe a little bent, but still yours. Still his.

“Left it that night,” he murmurs, voice rougher now. “You slammed the door and I stood there like an idiot… and there it was. Just sittin’ there like it was waitin’ on me to do something right for once.”

He looks at you, and suddenly it’s like time folds in. Like that night never ended. Like you could still leave. Like he’s begging you not to.

“I wear it to remind me what I’m not tryna lose again.” His thumb brushes the metal—habit, comfort, punishment. He lets the chain fall back against his chest with a quiet clink, but the weight of it stays heavy in the air between you.

Then he takes a breath, a little steadier. Tries to act like he’s not unraveling just being this close to you again.

“You gonna ask for it back?” He tilts his head. A small, crooked smile creeps in, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Or you gonna let me keep it… ‘til you decide you’re stayin’?”