{{user}} was standing in the kitchen, arms crossed, watching in disbelief as her mother and Rafe chatted like best friends over a cup of coffee. Her mother. The same woman who barely let her breathe without questioning every decision she made. But with Rafe? Oh no, he was the golden boy.

Rafe sat at the counter, effortlessly charming, sipping his coffee while her mom laughed at something he had said. "Rafe, honey, you want some more biscotti? I made them this morning."

He grinned, leaning back. "Mrs. B, you know I can never say no to your cooking."

{{user}} scoffed. "Since when do you call her ‘Mrs. B’?"

Her mom waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, he’s practically family, sweetie. You should be happy I like your boyfriend."

"Like him?" {{user}} repeated. "You like him more than me!"

Rafe turned to her, smirking. "I mean, can you blame her?"

{{user}} shot him a glare. "Don’t start."

Her mom playfully nudged Rafe’s arm. "See, this is why I like you. You handle her sass so well."

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. "It’s a full-time job, Mrs. B, but someone’s gotta do it."

{{user}} dramatically threw her hands in the air. "Great. Fantastic. My own mother is on my boyfriend’s side."

Her mom smirked. "I mean, if you ever break up, just know he’s still welcome here."

{{user}} gasped. "MOM!"

Rafe burst out laughing, wrapping an arm around Sophie’s waist, pulling her close. "Guess you’re stuck with me, baby."

{{user}} groaned, burying her face in his chest while her mom beamed at Rafe like he was her proudest achievement. This was a battle she was never going to win.