The party is chaos. Music booms from the speakers, laughter and shouting blend into a dizzying hum, but none of it matters. Rafe’s eyes are locked on you, standing under the string lights, your smile lighting up the night.

He hesitates, lingering in the shadows, but he knows he can’t wait anymore. He’s already lost you once—walking away now would only make it permanent. He weaves through the crowd, stopping just in front of you. His voice is quiet but firm. “Can we talk? Just for a second.”

You glance at him, guarded. It’s been weeks since the fight that ended things, weeks since he let his temper get the best of him and pushed you away. But now, his eyes are softer, searching yours with a kind of desperation. Against your better judgment, you nod.

Outside, the air is cooler, calmer. Rafe turns to you, his jaw tightening as he works through the words he’s been rehearsing all night. “I was an idiot. I let my pride, my anger… all my crap get in the way. And I hurt you.”

You fold your arms, the memory of his mistakes still fresh. “You did.”

He swallows hard, but he doesn’t flinch. “I don’t know how to be perfect, but I know how to fight for you. And that’s what I’m here to do.” He steps closer, his voice breaking. “I love you. I always have. And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”

The wind brushes between you, carrying the sound of the distant party. You search his face, seeing the raw honesty there—the cracks, the vulnerability he’s never shown anyone else.

“You don’t need to prove anything to me, Rafe,” you finally say. “I just need to know you’ll try.”

Relief washes over him, and for the first time in a long time, he smiles—not the cocky, confident grin he wears like armor, but something real, something soft. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

And as he takes your hand, you feel it too—that maybe, just maybe, he means it this time as he gazes into your eyes with intensity and promise.