You left the Kook side of the island years ago without telling anyone you were pregnant. Especially not Rafe.

Back then, he was unstable, angry, constantly spiraling, and you couldn’t raise a baby around that life. So you disappeared to the Cut and raised your daughter, Lia, alone.

For almost three years, Rafe kept texting nonstop.

Come home. Please answer me. I know you still love me. I’m trying to fix myself.

You ignored every message.

Until one rainy night, everything finally caught up to you.

You were carrying sleepy little Lia against your shoulder while trying to unlock your apartment door after work. The hallway lights flickered above you, and the second you looked at your right, your stomach dropped.

Rafe was sitting on the floor outside your apartment.

Hood up. Arms resting over his knees. Looking like he’d been there for hours.

The second he saw Lia in your arms, his entire expression changed.

His eyes locked onto the little blonde-haired girl hiding her face in your neck.

Then slowly back to you.

The silence felt terrifying.

“Tell me that’s not my kid,” he said quietly.

You couldn’t speak.

Rafe stood up too fast, staring at Lia like the world around him stopped moving. His jaw tightened, eyes glossy with anger and disbelief all at once.

“Fuck. You left me,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “You left me and took my daughter with you?”

Lia peeked over your shoulder curiously, completely unaware of the tension.

And somehow that made it worse.

Because the second Rafe looked at her again, something in him broke.

He looked furious. Heartbroken.