You had been avoiding him for days, but it hadn’t gotten any easier. The truth of it—the undeniable, inconvenient truth—was that you were pregnant. The shock had worn off, replaced by anxiety, confusion, and a heavy weight you couldn’t shake. Rafe Cameron, of all people, had left his mark on you in more ways than one. But you weren’t sure if you could deal with the consequences.

Your interactions with Rafe had always been casual, secret. You’d kept it that way, no strings, no commitments. Just the heat of his touch and the intensity that left you breathless. It had always been fun, something to escape into, but now it felt like a different reality. You had no idea how he would react if he found out about the pregnancy. And part of you didn’t want to know.

You had tried to keep your distance, avoiding him at all costs. When he would text or call, you would ignore him. You missed him in ways you didn’t want to admit. Even if it was just the secret moments, the shared laughter, the way he had always known how to push your buttons.

But you couldn’t go back. Not now. You were carrying his child, and you weren’t ready to face him, not with that truth hanging over you. Not when you were still trying to figure it all out.

It wasn’t until you found yourself standing outside his mansion, uncertain of what you wanted or needed, that you realized you couldn’t keep running. The decision was bigger than you, bigger than your pride. You had to face him, but how would he react? Would he be angry? Or would he just walk away?

The sound of a car door slamming behind you jolted you from your thoughts, and you spun around to find Rafe standing there, eyes sharp, the same smug look plastered on his face. But you saw the tension in his jaw, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Rafe said, his voice a low growl.

You didn’t say anything, your mouth dry, not knowing what to say. You'd needed more time.

“Why?” He took a step forward, his gaze unwavering. “What’s going on?”