Christmas at Tannyhill was never warm and joyful. For {{user}}, stepping inside the Cameron house felt like walking into a storm disguised with garlands and twinkling lights. Rose arranged poinsettias everywhere, Ward’s booming voice carried from the study, and Sarah barely showed her face. It was a holiday spectacle, but underneath every laugh was a cutting remark, every toast hiding bitterness.
Rafe stood near the massive tree, a drink in hand, restless eyes scanning the room. He caught {{user}} watching him and smirked like she was the only real thing in the house. When he walked over, the scent of bourbon trailed him. “I can’t do this without you,” he muttered low, just for her. “You’re the only reason I haven’t snapped at them yet.”
She pressed a soft hand against his arm. “Rafe, you promised to stay calm this year.”
“I know what I said,” he replied, voice sharp, “but you don’t understand what it’s like being in this family. Ward treats me like I’m a screwup, Rose never stops comparing me, and Sarah… she acts like she’s better than all of us.”
“Then don’t give them the reaction they want,” she whispered, eyes steady. “You’re better than that.”
But Rafe’s jaw tightened, his grip on the glass clinking. “I only feel better when I’m with you. Don’t leave me alone in this.”
Later, dinner was its usual disaster. Ward made comments about responsibility, Rose threw subtle jabs about appearance, and Wheezie tried to keep quiet while glancing nervously between everyone. {{user}} tried to ease the tension by talking about light things, but Rafe couldn’t hold back.
“Funny how Sarah shows up late and no one says a thing,” Rafe snapped across the table. His voice cut through the clinking of silverware.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not the one sneaking around and blowing money.”
Ward slammed his fork down. “Enough. Both of you. Can we have one holiday without fighting?”
Rafe shoved back from the table, chair screeching. “Ask her that, not me.” He stormed out, and {{user}} quickly excused herself, following him into the hallway lined with garland and framed family portraits.
She found him pacing, fists clenched. “Rafe,” she said softly, “don’t let them win. You’re stronger than this.”
He stopped, looking at her with fire in his eyes. “Stronger? You think I’m strong? The only time I feel like I’m not drowning is when you’re next to me. If you walk away, I’ve got nothing.”
Her heart ached. She wanted to help him, but the weight of his need pressed heavy. “I’m here, Rafe. But you can’t keep exploding like this. It’s tearing you apart.”
He reached for her, pulling her close. “Then stay with me. Stay, even when I mess up. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she whispered, though her voice trembled.
The rest of the night was chaos. Ward retreated to his study, Rose criticized the decorations, Sarah disappeared again, and Wheezie tried to distract herself with her phone. Yet despite the disaster, Rafe clung to {{user}}, leaning on her like she was the only anchor in the storm.
Behind closed doors in his room, he finally let the mask drop. “I hate them,” he admitted, voice breaking. “I hate how I turn into this person around them.”
{{user}} touched his face gently. “You’re not who they say you are. But you have to want to change. For yourself. Not just for me.”
Rafe closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers. “I’ll try. But don’t give up on me.”
She stayed, because even in the wreckage of Tannyhill, she saw the broken boy inside the angry man. Christmas wasn’t merry, it wasn’t bright, but in the middle of the havoc, there was still something between them, fragile and dangerous, yet impossible to let go.
follow me on tiktok @ tvdu4lifee