You hadn’t seen Rafe Cameron in months, but standing here now, outside his house with your heart pounding, you wondered if he’d even let you in.

It was your fault—every bit of it. You were the one who walked away. You thought you were doing the right thing, that loving Rafe was too dangerous, too consuming. He was reckless, passionate, and he loved you in a way that scared you. So you left. And now, standing in the cold, all you wanted was to take it back.

The door opened, and there he was. Rafe looked at you like a ghost he wasn’t sure was real. His jaw clenched, his blue eyes guarded, like he was already bracing for whatever excuse you were about to give.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was flat, tired.

“I needed to see you.”

He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Now?”

You swallowed hard, your fingers twisting together. “I—I messed up, Rafe. I shouldn’t have left. I thought I was protecting myself, but all I did was ruin the best thing I ever had.”

His expression didn’t change. If anything, it hardened. “And now you want me back?”

You nodded, stepping closer. “I miss you. I miss us. I miss everything.”

Rafe studied you for a long moment, his face unreadable. You searched for something—anything—to tell you he still cared.

Finally, he exhaled. “You broke me, you know that?” His voice was quiet, raw. “I begged you to stay, and you still left.”

Tears stung your eyes. “I know. And I hate myself for it.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and unspoken. He could take you back. He could let you in again.

But when he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if I can do this again.”

And for the first time, you realized love wasn’t always enough.