It had always been complicated between Rafe Cameron and {{user}}—a tangled mess of love, tension, and unspoken words. They had always found their way back to each other, even through the chaos. But this… this was different.

After what she saw him do, what he did, something inside her broke.

She had always known Rafe struggled under the weight of his father’s expectations. That aching need to prove himself. But killing someone? Taking a life? She never thought he could cross that line.

And yet, she saw it happen—clear as day. Rafe pulling the trigger. Peterkin falling.

Now, back at home, {{user}} stumbled through the front door, hands trembling uncontrollably. Her mascara was smeared across her cheeks, mixing with the tears she couldn’t stop. Blood stained her palms, she didn’t even know whose.

This was bad. So, so bad.

Why did she go? Why didn’t she stay with JJ, Pope, and Kie? She could’ve pretended not to know. Could’ve not seen what she saw. But she couldn’t just sit back and do nothing… right?

Her knees buckled slightly as she collapsed onto the floor, sobbing. Her chest ached. Her mind was racing. And then—

The doorbell rang.

She jumped, breath catching in her throat. Slowly, shakily, she forced herself to her feet and opened the door.

And there he was.

Rafe.

Tears in his eyes.

“{{user}}…” he whispered, voice hoarse as he took a step forward, arms open, like he was about to hug her.

“Don’t come near me, Rafe!” she cried, backing up. Her voice cracked, and the fear in her eyes stopped him cold. “I mean it.”

His jaw clenched. “Damn it, {{user}}… it wasn’t my fault, okay?! She was going to kill my dad!”

“It wasn’t your fault?” she screamed, disbelief twisting her face. “You shot her, Rafe! You— You killed her!”

He flinched.

“How could you do that?” she sobbed, the words barely audible. “Why would you do that?”

The space between them felt heavier than ever.