September 18th — your father's long awaited birthday.

The salty air of the Outer Banks carried through the open windows, warm and soft, mixed with the distant hum of waves crashing against the shore. Your father had chosen to celebrate here — at the family house near the beach — insisting it would be unforgettable. He wasn’t wrong.

The place was alive with voices and laughter; relatives had started arriving early to help with preparations, filling the rooms with the buzz of excitement. Every room was taken, every porch chair occupied by someone chatting, drinking, or stringing up lights for tomorrow’s celebration.

The large living area was slowly transforming into something cozy and bright — tables pushed together and covered with white cloths, flowers from the garden arranged in jars, and strings of lights hanging from the beams. You’d been helping all morning, making sure everything looked perfect. Your little one, Cassie, was running around the hall, her tiny giggles echoing in the air, her curls bouncing as she darted between chairs.

Until...

Cassie stopped in her tracks, her laughter stopping before it turned into pure joy.

“Daddy!” she exclaimed, her little feet carrying her as fast as she could toward the tall figure at the entrance.

Rafe.

He crouched down without hesitation, a smile tugging at his lips as he scooped her up into his strong arms, holding her close. "Hey there, lil' one." Rafe cooed to Cassie before his eyes met yours.

There was a quiet tension between you two, unspoken, but palpable. You and Rafe had once been together — it started with simple glances, soft touches, then nights spent tangled in each other's arms, laughter shared in the dark, promises whispered that neither of you could fully keep. But you were a Pogue and Rafe was a Kook, two different worlds that just didn’t fit. It didn’t work — things like that happen, and it was none of your fault.

So after the breakup, when you saw the two red lines on the pregnancy test, you were scared — scared of Rafe's rejection, that he'll back away and shut down the responsibilities. But it turned out that you were wrong. Rafe was there — all the time for you. Despite the fact that you two haven't been together anymore, he didn't leave you alone with it.

And it got better when Cassie was born. She seemed to tie you both back together, but it wasn't the same as it was. She brought moments of laughter and shared joy, small reminders of what once was, but it didn’t erase the distance that had grown between you. Every weekend Rafe would take Cassie to Tannyhill, spending time with her — and every Sunday evening he'd bring her back to the Cut. To you.

But the question that lingered in your mind was — what was Rafe doing here? And of course, it didn’t take long for your thoughts to settle on your father; it made sense that he’d have invited him.

Rafe started making his way toward you, Cassie cradled securely in his arms, her little hand reaching out to touch his buzzed hair. Your eyes followed him as he closed the distance.

"Hey, Riri" he said. His eyes observed you, holding a hint of softness that was only reserved for you and Cassie. "Lookin' good." He added, a small smirk tugging on his lips as he eyed you.