The house was silent except for the faint creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. Rafe stood in the doorway, his frame outlined by the faint glow of the moon filtering through the windows. You hesitated, your chest tightening with the memory of everything that had brought you here—the yelling, the shattered glass, the nights when you couldn’t sleep for fear of what he might do next.

But this was different. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Rafe had promised things would change, that he would change. The drugs were gone, he said. The manipulation, the chaos—he swore he’d left it all behind. Yet every time you looked at him, the memories clawed their way back, dragging you into the past where he was more villain than man.

Your lips parted, barely a whisper escaping. “I’m not afraid of you now.” The words hung in the air, trembling under their own weight. You weren’t sure if you said it for him or yourself, a mantra to convince your heart of what your mind couldn’t fully believe.

“I know I don’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice low and uneven. “But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to prove I’m better. For you.”

His hands trembled as they brushed against your arm, his touch so light it almost wasn’t there. The Rafe you saw now wasn’t the monster you remembered—the one who’d screamed and lashed out. He looked small, broken, like he was trying to find the piece of himself, and you were the piece.

Villain and violent, infant and innocent. The Rafe who once terrified you stood before you now, stripped of all his armor, asking for something you weren’t sure you could give.

When his hands cupped your face, his warmth seeped into you, thawing the cold fear that had lived in your chest for so long. He leaned his forehead against yours, and for a moment, the chaos of the past faded.

He closed his eyes, a quiet exhale escaping his lips. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I’ll never stop trying to be the man you need.”

For now, both arms cradled you now.