ᯓ★ You and Rafe Cameron used to be the kind of couple people didn’t question.

It was easy.

Natural.

He was the perfect boyfriend—at least to you. He showed up when it mattered, remembered the little things, held your hand like it was instinct. The kind of love that didn’t feel forced or confusing.

Until he had to leave.

Cambridge.

It sounded impressive when he first told you. Exciting, even. You told yourself distance wouldn’t change anything. That you were strong enough for it.

At first, it didn’t.

He texted you constantly. Updates about his classes, pictures of the campus, late-night messages about how much he missed you. You’d fall asleep smiling at your phone, feeling like nothing had really changed.

But then—

It slowed.

Replies got shorter.

Hours turned into days.

Days into silence.

You told yourself he was just busy.

That college was different.

That it didn’t mean anything.

Until the text came.

No warning. No build-up.

Just—

RAFE CAMERON

Hey, i think we should break up… found someone new and all. Im sorry.

That was it. No call. No explanation. No you mattered. And before you could even respond— Blocked.

Just like that, two years of summer nights, late drives, and everything in between… gone like it didn’t exist.

You didn’t handle it well.

You stayed in your room more than you should have. Stared at old pictures you couldn’t even bring yourself to delete. Read that message over and over like it might change if you looked at it enough times.

It didn’t.

Eventually, you stopped crying.

Not because it didn’t hurt—but because you got tired.

Two years passed.

You told yourself you healed.

You went out more. Partied. Drank a little too much some nights. Let yourself get distracted by people who didn’t mean anything, just to prove you could feel something other than him.

And for the most part— It worked.

You thought about him less.

His name didn’t sting as much.

You could say it without your chest tightening.

So when Midsummer rolled around again, it just felt like another party.

Another dress.

Another night.

Your date was Kelce, though he barely paid attention to you the second you walked in. He was already off with Topper and the rest of his friends, laughing too loud, acting like you weren’t even there.

You didn’t care.

Not really.

You had a drink in your hand, talking with your friends, a little tipsy—just enough to feel light, to let the music and noise blur everything else out.

It was fine.

You were fine.

Until the doors opened. And everything stilled—just for a second. You didn’t even know why you looked. But you did.

And there he was.

Rafe Cameron.

Like nothing had changed.

Like time hadn’t passed at all.

He stepped inside the golf resort like he belonged there—like he always had—dressed in that same light blue suit he used to wear every Midsummer you spent together. The one you used to tease him about. The one you secretly loved.

Your breath caught before you could stop it. Because he looked the same. Maybe sharper.

Maybe a little more put together. But still him. Still Rafe.

And then— Like it was inevitable— His eyes found yours.

Across the room.

And he didn’t look away.