The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the narrow streets of the Outer Banks. You leaned against the railing of the dock, eyes trained on the water as the waves gently lapped at the edges. Rafe Cameron approached, his steps heavy on the wood beneath him. You didn’t look at him at first—didn’t need to. You could feel his presence, the tension in the air whenever he was near.

“You’re still out here?” His voice was low, raspy, the way it always sounded when he was too deep in his own head.

You turned slowly, meeting his eyes. “Where else would I be?” you replied, your voice soft but cutting. You had a way of doing that—making everything sound like a question, even when it wasn’t.

He let out a short, bitter laugh. “Fair point.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment. Rafe looked off into the distance, eyes shadowed with something you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t press him. Not now. Not when you could feel the weight of the argument from earlier still hanging between you like a storm cloud.

“Hey,” he said after a beat, stepping closer. “I’m… I’m sorry, alright?”

Your gaze softened. You could tell he didn’t mean it in the way he should, but you’d heard it enough times to know what it meant. Rafe’s apologies were never grand, never full of the right words. But they were real, even if they were wrapped in pride and insecurity.

“I know,” you said, your voice quieter now. “Just… try harder next time, okay?”

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I’ll try.”

The wind picked up, sending a chill through the air. Without thinking, you stepped closer, and Rafe, for once, didn’t push you away. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing yours. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it was enough. For now.

And as the sun dipped lower, you both stood there, side by side—two people who, despite everything, still found their way back to each other.