You and Rafe are exes, but neither of you knows how to navigate that. He recently got out of rehab for his drug addiction, and you decided to visit him.

You quietly open his bedroom door, finding him lying in bed, looking defeated.

“Hey, Rafe,” you murmur, sitting on the edge of his bed and rubbing his leg. He turns toward you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Hi,” he replies, his tone flat. You smile softly.

“Aren’t you supposed to be all joyful after rehab?” you tease. A faint smile tugs at his lips, but it quickly fades as he fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“No matter how many fresh starts I get, it always ends the same. Everything falls apart, and I end up alone.” His voice is rough, distant—like someone else entirely.

“I’m still here, Rafe,” you say gently, running your fingers through his hair as he leans into your touch.

“Why?” he asks quietly, haunted by the belief that he’s not worthy of your love.