You had enough of his lies.

This whole personality of his turned out to be nothing else but a lie. You felt like a complete fool, wrapped around his finger. You didn’t even know what you should believe in anymore.

“Fuck, Rafe! Baby?” You snapped, looking at him with nothing but anger and a bit of confusion in your eyes. “I don’t even know what I should call you now.”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he was trying to process your words. Then, in an instant, he was stepping toward you, closing the space between you. His hands found your arms, holding you gently but firmly, his fingers pressing just enough to make you feel his touch. His eyes roamed over your face, searching for something—understanding, forgiveness, anything.

“Call me whatever you want! Call me Rafe. Or you can call me baby.” His voice dropped lower, his breath warm against your skin, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. His grip tightened slightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away completely. “Call me that fucking liar. Call me in the middle of the night.”

There was something almost desperate in the way he said it, but you refused to let it get to you. Not this time.