ᯓ★ You knew Rafe Cameron was using you.

Maybe not in the obvious way. Maybe not in a way he’d ever admit out loud.

But you knew.

You came after Sofia.

After the breakup. After the mess. After whatever version of love he had with her cracked open and left him angry enough to need someone else.

And somehow—

That someone became you.

Still, when he looked at you and said I love you for the first time… you believed it.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend, voice low, hand on your waist like he already knew the answer—

You folded. Like always. Because loving him made you stupid.

You’d seen them together before. Seen the way he smiled at her. Easy. Warm. Unforced.

The kind of smile that never seemed to reach you the same way.

You’d seen the kisses too. The soft ones. The casual ones. The kind that looked natural on them.

With you, sometimes it felt practiced.

Like he was trying to recreate something that used to fit better with someone else.

But when you moved in with him, you told yourself things would change.

That if you loved him right enough, hard enough, fully enough—

He’d finally choose you for real. So you tried. You cooked for him after work. Kept the house clean.

Folded his clothes, remembered what groceries he liked, waited up when he was late, rubbed his shoulders when he was tense.

You became everything a good girlfriend was supposed to be.

And still—

He never blocked her.

You noticed that too.

Sometimes her name would light up his phone screen before he turned it over.

Sometimes in arguments, when he got mean enough, he’d compare you to her.

“Sofia wouldn’t be actin’ like this.”

Or worse—

“She knew when to shut up.”

And when you cried?

He’d come to bed later. Climb in behind you. Kiss your shoulder softly. Murmur an apology against your skin because he knew you’d forgive him. And you always did.

⋆˙⟡ —

The house party was loud, humid, packed shoulder-to-shoulder with people pretending they were having the best night of their lives.

You sat beside Rafe on the couch, beer in hand, trying not to notice how checked out he looked.

Legs spread wide, leaning back deep into the cushions, arms crossed over his chest. His knee bounced up and down with irritation, jaw tight like everything around him was boring him to death.

You noticed. Of course you did. So you took another sip of your drink and stayed quiet. Trying not to become another thing annoying him.

Then suddenly— He stood up. No explanation. No glance your way. Just got up and walked off.

You rolled your eyes, swallowing down the sting in your chest.

Typical.

He never even tried with you anymore. Didn’t talk unless he had to. Didn’t ask if you were okay. Didn’t notice when you went quiet.

Minutes passed.

Too many.

You set your cup down and stood.

Pushing through the crowd, down the stairs, past the kitchen where people were yelling over music—

Until you saw him.

Rafe leaned back against the counter, drink in hand.

And smiling. That smile. The warm one. The easy one. The one he never gave you.

And it was aimed at Sofia like it belonged there.

He was talking to her like the room had emptied around them. Like no one else existed.

Then—

He reached up casually. Brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Gentle. Familiar. Like muscle memory.

And something in you finally snapped.