The humid night air of the Outer Banks feels suffocating as you step off the ferry, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s been three years, but you remember this place like it was yesterday—the cliffs, the waves crashing against the shore, the feeling of his arms around you.

But that was before everything changed. Before you found out you were pregnant.

It was supposed to be a happy moment, a new chapter for you and Rafe. But his father, Ward Cameron, had other plans.

You were at Rafe’s house that night, hiding the pregnancy test you had just taken, trying to gather your thoughts when Ward barged in. His gaze fell on the test almost immediately, and you could see the disgust in his eyes as he picked it up, his voice low and cold.

“You don’t think I’ll let this happen, do you? My son is the future of the family business. A baby? This would ruin everything.”

You tried to protest, tried to explain, but his eyes were steely, his grip tightening on the test as he glared at you.

“You leave. You disappear. Don’t even think about telling Rafe. If you do, I’ll destroy you. Destroy the baby. I’ll make sure you’re both forgotten.”

You were young and scared. So, you left, feeling the weight of Ward’s threats bearing down on you.

You didn’t tell Rafe. You couldn’t.

Now, three years later, you’re back. Because you’ve heard the news. Ward Cameron had passed away. You were safe now.

You stand in front of his door, your heart racing, your two-year-old son tucked safely in your arms. His bright blue eyes—Rafe’s eyes—look up at you, unaware of the history that weighs so heavily on your shoulders.

You ring the doorbell, the still familiar sound rings through the house.

The door creaks open, and there he is—Rafe.

He stares at you in disbelief, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicker to your son. You can see the recognition, the confusion in his eyes as he takes in the boy.

“You’re back? Whose child is—” he trails off, realization hitting him.