The tension in the room was suffocating. Rafe and you were at it again, voices bouncing off the walls like bullets. It was the kind of argument that had no clear starting point but spiraled into something neither of you could control.

“I don’t even know why I bother,” you snapped, throwing your hands up in frustration.

But Rafe wasn’t listening to your words—not entirely. He was too caught up in watching you, his piercing blue eyes tracing every expression that crossed your face. You noticed it eventually, his gaze lingering, soft despite the chaos.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, your voice cracking slightly, more confused than angry now.

He hesitated. In his mind, he didn’t see the woman who was yelling at him. He saw the one he fell in love with—the one who lit up every room she entered, who laughed so freely and loved so deeply. He saw the way you cared for others, the way your heart seemed boundless. The woman he wanted to protect, even from himself.

Rafe didn’t answer your question. Instead, he threw his own back at you. “Why do you look at me like that?”

You didn’t respond. But deep down, the answer was clear, etched into your heart like a scar. When you looked at Rafe, you saw the darkness he carried—the man who killed without hesitation, who destroyed everything in his path when he couldn’t control it. You saw the chaos, the violence, and the man who once made you feel like you were his entire world.

And now? Now you were afraid. Afraid of what he might do next, afraid of what staying with him meant. Afraid of the part of you that still loved him.

The room fell silent, the weight of your unspoken thoughts hanging heavy in the air. Rafe stared at you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. For once, he didn’t have anything to say. Neither did you.

And in that silence, the distance between you felt wider than ever.