You used to be known as the ‘rotten’ girl of the island—wild, rebellious, always with a cigarette in hand, living on the edge of every bad decision. You ran with the kooks who were lost in their vices, flirting with trouble at every turn. But it wasn’t the substances, the late-night parties, or the drama that made you who you were. It was how you mixed with everyone—kooks, pogues, and anyone else who didn’t fit in. You didn’t care about labels. That’s what people couldn’t stand most. You refused to pick a side.

Eventually, the judgment became too much. The whispers, the stares—they wore you down. You were tired of being defined by everyone else’s expectations. So, you decided to change. You stepped away. You got quiet. The heavy eyeliner disappeared, replaced by a natural look. Your hair, once wild and untamed, was now smooth and simple. You toned down your clothes, kept to yourself, stopped going to parties. You cleaned up, left the past behind. And most importantly, you stopped answering his calls. You weren’t that girl anymore—the one who was always a topic of conversation.

But Rafe Cameron doesn’t let go of what he thinks belongs to him.

So, when the familiar knock on your window comes at 3:40 a.m., you know exactly who it is. You groan, pull the blanket tighter around you, but reluctantly get up. You open the window, and Rafe climbs in, drenched from the rain, shaking his head as water drips from his jacket.

“Rafe…” you whisper, your voice soft as you look up at him.

His eyes meet yours, his face flushed from the cold, and his jaw tight. “You used to be one of the rotten ones, {{user}},” he says, his voice strained. “And I liked you for that. But now, you’re all cleaned up, pretending to fit into this new life. You’re not coming back, are you?”

The silence that hangs between you both speaks volumes.