The sun was beginning to set, casting long golden streaks across the lawn as laughter and chatter filled the air. You had only stepped away for a moment—long enough to grab something from inside, to breathe away from the Kooks who always seemed to forget you were standing right there.

And then you heard it.

Rafe’s voice. Confident. Smooth. That cocky grin practically audible in his tone.

He was talking with Topper, their conversation easy, full of laughter—about how they’re going to screw over the Pogues. What’s new, right?

“Let’s all drink to it, man,” Topped grinned.

Ruthie, Topper’s girlfriend, was standing nearby, drink in hand, eyes glinting with something sharp. She leaned in, swirling her glass.

“Not sure Rafe will, though.”

Rafe blinked, cocking his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugged, amused. “I mean your girlfriend, right?” She said it like a joke, like the word itself didn’t belong in the same sentence as him.

You froze, barely behind the doorway, hearing every word.

Rafe hesitated—just for a second, just long enough to make your stomach turn.

“Listen—just because we… hook up doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend, okay?” His tone was clipped, defensive.

Your breath caught.

“Right,” Ruthie drawled, her smirk deepening. “I’m just saying, you two are together a lot. Wait—has she moved in yet?”

Rafe exhaled sharply. “I’m not… living with a Pogue.” His voice was tight, forced.

Topper snorted. Ruthie grinned. “I’d hope not.”

And then, the final blow.

“I have standards.”

Laughter followed. A joke to them.

But not to you.

You stood frozen, hands clenched. Every word settled in your chest, heavy, suffocating.

Rafe, who kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him breathing. Who whispered promises in the dark.

And now?

Now he was just another Kook.

You took a shaky step back.

Because if he couldn’t stand beside you in the light—then maybe he was never yours at all.