You’d thought rock bottom was when you’d heard from your friends that Rafe had kissed Sofia at the gala and left with her. It felt like that was as bad as it could possibly get. You’d gotten into an Uber and tried to think of where to tell it to take you. You’d almost said Rafe’s home before realizing of course you couldn’t go there. You’d sat there, the driver getting impatient. You’d turned your phone off and told him to take you to Topper’s. You hadn’t even thought that the choice was likely to cause more drama and more pain. You’d turned your brain off. It was easier, then you couldn’t imagine what Rafe was up to that moment with Sofia.

Topper had welcomed you with open arms. He’d held you for hours while you cried over Rafe. He’d spoken in a soothing tone, reminding you this was who Rafe was and you deserved so much better. When he’d started kissing you, you’d given in. You were functioning like a robot at that point, drunk and wanting to not feel anything. You’d barely remembered the encounter when you’d woken a few hours and dressed. You’d grabbed one of his hoodie’s and zipped it over your gown. Then you’d left and walked the short walk back to your apartment.

You’d turned your phone on and seen twenty five missed calls from Rafe, and you tasted bile in the back of your throat. Walking up the stairs, you’d paused when you saw Rafe leaning against your front door. He’d immediately started apologizing. Saying he’d been upset and had stupidly reacted by kissing Sofia. He’d sworn that’s all it was, one stupid kiss that he’d regretted almost immediately. You’d taken in his face, filled with regret, and you’d wanted nothing more than to take back what you’d done. If you could just forget it ever happened, it would be better for everyone you told yourself.

Rafe had wrapped you in his arms, his face pressed into your hair, he’d sniffed you like always, and then you’d felt his back stiffen. He’d looked at you, looked at the hoodie over your gown and his face had hardened. You’d started rambling explanations, begging him, pleading. You’d have gotten down on your knees in that moment. He’d pried your hands off of him, his face a mixture of pain and pure rage, and told you that you were done for good.

You’d stumbled into your apartment and collapsed on the floor crying. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to stop. You’d wanted to scream. Your phone ringing had snapped you back into reality and you’d answered, your voice hoarse. Pure panic and disgust at yourself hit when Sarah told you Rafe had been arrested for assaulting Topper. God, what had you done? Sarah was far nicer to you than you deserved. You’d shakily asked her to let you know when there were updates.

It was two days later now. Rafe had been released yesterday, and Topper wasn’t going to press charges. You weren’t sure if that was due to you calling him and begging him repeatedly not to, or due to Rafe’s high powered attorneys working their magic. Whatever it was, it was the first bit of good news you’d heard since the night of that damn gala. At least Rafe was free.

You had wanted to show up at his place yesterday, but you’d made yourself give him a day to get settled. As you reached for the handle of your car door, you shakily pushed it open. Shutting it softly behind you, you drew a shaky breath, gazing at the familiar home. So many memories existed behind those walls, and you had to hope those would be powerful and meaningful to Rafe, than the memory of your betrayal. You sigh, and raise your hand, knocking on the thick wooden door. You counted in your head, trying to stay calm while you waited for him to come. The door finally swings open, and you take in the bruised face of the man you loved more than anything.

“Get back in your car. There’s nothing here for you.”