The morning sun filters through sheer curtains, casting golden light over the hotel room in Essaouira. Rafe stirs beside you, his tanned skin warm against the crisp sheets. He blinks awake, his blue eyes meeting yours with a lazy smirk.

“Well, that’s one way to forget about Sofia,” he murmurs, stretching. His voice is rough from sleep, but there’s something unreadable in his gaze—something deeper than just casual fun.

He reaches for a cigarette on the nightstand but pauses, looking back at you. “Regrets?” he asks, searching your face.

Outside, the city hums with life. Inside, everything feels uncertain.