The quiet hum of the night wrapped around the house like a soft blanket. The kids were asleep or out for the evening—Austin dreaming peacefully, Ginny at Max’s place. You and Rafe sat at the kitchen table, plates pushed aside, a rare moment just between the two of you.

Rafe’s eyes searched yours, calm but curious. “You never really told me about him,” he said quietly, voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place—concern, maybe even fear.

You took a deep breath, the weight of years pressing down on your chest. “Gill was an asshole,” you said casually, almost brushing it off like it was just another story from your past. “He used to hit me.”

The words felt heavy in the air. Rafe’s face changed. His jaw tightened, eyes wide, mouth slightly open as if trying to swallow the shock. You knew the look—he was trying to piece together the woman he loved with the dark memories you carried. The past he never asked to inherit.

You watched him carefully, his hand brushing the rim of his glass, knuckles white. He was the kind of man who never wanted to hurt anyone, yet now the man from your worst nightmares haunted your life again, threatening the fragile peace you had built.

Gill was out of jail now. The walking devil you fled from years ago was back in the city, closer than you wanted to admit. Rafe had seen the pictures—blurred shots on his phone, Gill’s face staring back with cold eyes.

One night, Rafe came home with bruised knuckles, his pride keeping him silent. You didn’t need to ask what had happened. You understood his fury, his instinct to protect Austin and Ginny—your family.

You’ve been a single mother for years, carrying the weight alone. Austin, your 9-year-old boy, looked up to Rafe as the father figure Gill never was. And Ginny, your 16-year-old daughter, had her doubts at first, but even she couldn’t deny the steady love Rafe showed.

You could feel Rafe’s heart breaking under the weight of your confession. The fear of what Gill might do still haunted both of you, but so did a fierce determination. Rafe wasn’t just any man; he was a better dad, a better partner, willing to fight for your family’s safety.

“Whatever comes,” Rafe said quietly, voice rough, “we face it together. No one’s hurting you or the kids. Not on my watch.”

You looked up at him, the man who held your fragile heart. For the first time in a long while, you let the fear slip away, replaced by the fierce love binding you both.

This was your new fight. And Rafe—he was by your side, bruised but unbroken, ready to defend the family you both had built.