You never thought you’d be here—living in a mansion by the ocean, wrapped in luxury, with Rafe Cameron by your side. It felt like someone else’s dream, a story you might have read once and dismissed as impossible.

You came from nothing. A girl with bruises that never fully faded, a gnawing hunger that had once been constant, and a past you worked tirelessly to bury. But Rafe—chaotic, selfish, reckless to everyone else—became your anchor, your protector in ways no one else could be.

At 21, he was everything the world whispered about: rich, entitled, untouchable. A Kook used to bending people and situations to his will. Yet with you, he was different. Gentle. Attentive. Fierce in his own way, he knew the weight of your pain, and he made it his mission to shield you from it, to make you feel safe when the world had never offered you that.

He gave you comfort, affection, and a love you had never thought you deserved. Every smile, every soft word, every touch reminded you that maybe you were allowed happiness after all.

And then, there were the hoodies.

They carried him. The faint scent of him—musky, warm—clung to the fabric, and you wore them when he was gone, wrapping yourself in his presence, pretending he was there when he wasn’t. They were a lifeline, a little rebellion against the emptiness you feared when he left.

That morning, as you pulled one over your head, the familiar scent enveloped you. You didn’t even have to turn around to know he was there.

His arms slid around your waist before you could react, strong yet comforting. His lips brushed the top of your head, and you felt it all—the protection, the warmth, the love—settle around you like a shield. For a moment, nothing else existed except him, you, and the quiet intimacy of a morning that felt entirely yours.