GOOD GRACES  ☕️  ───  EPILOGUE.
I LOVE YOU, I'M SORRY

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𝓟ALM SPRINGS, 2010.

The apartment felt wrong as soon as eight years old Rebeca stepped inside. Usually, the air was warm with the smell of her mum's cheap floral perfume, or maybe the faint sweetness of vanilla candles burning in the corner. That day, though, it smelled sour, sharp—like something had turned.

"Mum? I'm home!" she called out, her voice cheerful and high-pitched as she shut the door behind her. She kicked off her battered shoes, the soles scuffed from playground games, and adjusted her backpack. Inside it was her spelling test, the gold star sticker shining at the top. She couldn't wait to show her mum.

But no response came.

Rebeca paused, her small hand still clutching the strap of her backpack. A strange stillness hung in the air, pressing down on her tiny chest. Normally, her mum would be humming along to a record, or the low hiss of dinner cooking would be coming from the kitchen. Not this heavy silence.

"Mum?" she called again, her voice faltering now. She let her backpack drop to the floor and took a hesitant step further into the apartment.

Her stomach twisted as she peeked into the living room. Her mother was on the couch, slumped to one side. The TV flickered in front of her, casting the room in a strange, eerie light.

Relief flooded through Rebeca for a moment. Her mother had fallen asleep again, like she always did when she was tired. "Mum, you're gonna hurt your neck like that," she said with a tiny laugh, her voice bouncing off the walls in a way that felt too loud.

She approached the couch, her sneakers squeaking against the floor, but as she got closer, her steps slowed. Something was off.

Her mother's head was tilted at an odd angle, her chest still—too still. Her skin wasn't just pale; it was almost gray, with an unfamiliar bluish tint around her lips. Rebeca froze, her breath catching in her throat.

"Mum?" she whispered, reaching out with trembling fingers to touch her arm. It was cold.

Cold.

Her heart started pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of her chest. "Mum!" she cried, louder this time, shaking her mother's shoulder with both hands. "Wake up! Please, wake up!"

There was no response. Her mother's body was limp, lifeless.

Rebeca stumbled back, her little hands clutching at her chest as panic clawed its way up her throat. Her mind was racing, but it couldn't make sense of what was happening. This couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening.

She turned and ran to the kitchen, her feet sliding on the linoleum as she grabbed the cordless phone from the counter. Her fingers fumbled over the buttons, tears streaming down her cheeks as she dialed 911.
The operator's voice was calm, but Rebeca could barely hear it over the roaring in her ears. She choked out the words between sobs: "My mum—she's not breathing! She won't wake up! Please, you have to help her!"

The operator asked her questions, but Rebeca didn't understand them. She dropped the phone and ran back to her mother, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Please, Mum," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You can't leave me. I'll be good, I promise. I'll do all my homework, and I won't talk back. Just wake up. Please."

Her mother's hand was limp, unresponsive. Rebeca collapsed beside her, sobbing into her lap as the sirens wailed in the distance. The sound seemed to come from somewhere far away, like it was happening to someone else.
The paramedics arrived quickly, but to Rebeca, it felt like an eternity. She watched with wide, tear-streaked eyes as they worked on her mother, their movements fast and clinical. One of them tried to talk to her, to lead her outside, but she shook her head violently.

"No! I'm not leaving her!" she screamed, clinging to the couch.

"Sweetheart, we need to help her," the paramedic said gently, but his words felt hollow. Rebeca finally let herself be pulled away, but she kept looking over her shoulder, hoping—praying—that her mother would wake up, that this was all just a mistake.

Outside, the cold night air hit her like a slap. The flashing red and blue lights of the ambulance painted the world in harsh, disorienting colors. Neighbors peeked out from behind curtains, their faces curious and pitying.

Rebeca hugged herself tightly, her small frame shaking with sobs. She stared at the ambulance, willing it to bring her mother back, to undo whatever had happened. But deep down, she knew.

She knew.

Later, she would learn the word "overdose." She would hear about pills, addiction, and how it had clawed at her mother for years. But none of that made sense to an eight-year-old. All she knew was that her mother—the person who sang her lullabies, who kissed her scraped knees, who told her she was special even when the world didn't—was gone.

Forever.

And in that moment, standing in the cold with tears freezing on her cheeks, Rebeca felt something break inside her. Something that never fully healed. She learned that love wasn't always enough. No matter how much you wanted to save someone, no matter how tightly you held onto them, sometimes they slipped away anyway.

And it wasn't fair.

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𝓟RESENT.

The hours passed in a blur as Rebeca stayed by Rafe's side, her hand wrapped loosely around his. The fluorescent lights above seemed harsh, unnatural, but she barely noticed them anymore. Time had melted into an indiscernible stretch, marked only by the steady beeps of the machines surrounding Rafe's bed. Her hands were wrapped around a mug of tea that had gone cold long ago, the steam nothing more than a memory now. Her chest felt heavy, like someone had placed a weight there and she didn't have the strength to push it off. The sharp scent of disinfectant hit her nose, mingling with the hum of faint voices and distant footsteps. It was surreal, the way the sterile brightness of the place seemed to mock the chaos she felt inside. Each footfall echoed louder in her head than it should have, a constant reminder of where she was and why she was here.

The memory lingered like a scar, one Rebeca tried to cover but could never fully ignore. It came back in flashes, like jagged shards of glass cutting into her chest, pulling her into a moment that she wished with every fiber of her being had never happened.
The flashback to her mother's overdose had come out of nowhere, rushing in with all the force of a tsunami and leaving her drowning in its wake. She had spent years suppressing it, stuffing it into a box labeled "Too Painful," and shoving it to the furthest corner of her mind. But now, with Rafe lying in that hospital bed, the memories had broken free.

Her breathing hitched, and her grip on the mug tightened as she thought about how she'd found him.
For a terrifying moment, she had been eight years old again, and it had been Rafe's hand she was clutching, begging him to wake up.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the image away, but it was no use. Rafe still laid motionless in the hospital bed, his usually sharp, piercing presence dulled by the pale, fragile figure in front of her. Tubes and wires crisscrossed his body, machines beeping softly beside him, their cold, rhythmic sounds mocking the erratic thudding of her heart. The oxygen tube across his nose looked almost grotesque against his slack features, and the sight of his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths felt like a punch to the gut.

He was always so full of life, for better or worse—teasing, smirking, challenging with that crooked smirk that made her want to both kiss and strangle him. But now, he looked... small. Vulnerable in a way she wasn't prepared for.

Her tea sloshed as her hands trembled. "Damn it," she whispered, setting the mug down on the coffee table before she spilled it.

Why did it scare her so much? Why was she so rattled, so shaken to her core?

Because it was him.

Rafe.

She thought about all the moments they'd shared—the sarcastic banter, the stolen glances, the way his smirk always seemed to soften when it was just the two of them. She thought about the way he'd handed her that stupid mystery novel, the way he called her "babe" with a casualness that made her stomach flutter every time. The way he'd teased her about being "just friends" at Topper's party, even as his eyes lingered on her a little too long. The way his leather jacket had felt draped over her shoulders when she'd been shivering. The kiss they'd shared that night—his lips firm yet soft, like he'd been holding himself back until that very moment.
The little things had sneaked up on her, building something between them that was unspoken but undeniable. Like the time he'd stood outside the café on her lunch break just to talk, or the way he leaned just a little too close when they shared a joke. Even the first time he'd ordered an espresso and said, "Don't screw it up," with that smirk. She'd fired back without hesitation, "No promises."

She let out a shaky laugh at the memory, her chest tightening with the ache of it. How had she gone from rolling her eyes at him to feeling like she couldn't breathe without him?

The weight in her chest grew heavier. What if she lost him? What if this was just the beginning of something worse?

The thought made her panic. She'd already lost so much. Her mother, her childhood, her innocence—it had all been ripped away from her, leaving her with scars that never truly faded.

She couldn't lose Rafe too.

But she also couldn't shake the fear that she was walking into the same trap. Loving someone who was broken, who could spiral at any moment, felt like walking on a tightrope with no safety net. She'd promised herself she'd never do this again.

Yet here she was.

The worst part was, she didn't care.

Her hand pressed against her chest as if she could physically hold herself together. Tears pricked at her eyes, and she let out a bitter laugh. How ironic was it that the boy she'd been so determined to avoid was now the one person she couldn't imagine being without?

She wasn't a little girl anymore. She wasn't helpless.

She didn't want to run from it anymore. Whatever this thing was between them, it was real. It was messy and imperfect and sometimes terrifying, but it was also the first time in years she'd felt alive.

Because in that moment she realised how much she loved Rafe Cameron.

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Rebeca sat slouched in the chair next to Rafe's hospital bed, exhaustion weighing heavily on her. The beeping of the monitors was rhythmic and steady, a small comfort in an otherwise overwhelming situation. Her body ached from staying in the same position for hours, and despite her best efforts to stay alert, her eyelids began to droop.

The soft light of the room blurred as sleep pulled at her, and she let herself rest her head on her folded arms against the edge of the bed. She didn't want to fall asleep—not here, not like this—but her body was betraying her, too drained from the emotional rollercoaster she'd been riding all day.

Just as her breathing started to slow, a faint, hoarse sound jolted her upright. Her heart stopped as she stared at Rafe's face. His brow furrowed slightly, a tiny crease forming between his eyebrows, and then his lips parted, a faint, groggy noise escaping him.

"Rafe?" she whispered, her voice trembling. She leaned closer, her hands clutching the edge of the bed as if holding on would steady her heart.

His eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly. His blue eyes, hazy and unfocused, scanned the room before settling on her. For a moment, he looked confused, like he couldn't quite place where he was or why.

"Becks?" he croaked, his voice raw and barely audible.

Her chest tightened, and tears sprang to her eyes. Relief crashed over her so intensely that she almost couldn't breathe. "Oh my God," she breathed, her voice breaking. She leaned closer, her fingers brushing the edge of the blanket as if she needed to ground herself in his presence. "Rafe, you're awake. You—" Her voice caught in her throat, and she had to swallow hard before she could continue.

His gaze softened as he took her in, and a faint, tired smile tugged at his lips. "You stayed," he murmured, his words tinged with disbelief.

"Of course I stayed," she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Where else would I be?"

His eyes lingered on her face, his expression shifting to something more vulnerable, more raw. "I thought I scared you off," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly.

Her heart broke at the honesty in his tone, and she instinctively reached for his hand. Her fingers curled around his, her touch light but firm. "You scared me, but you didn't scare me off," she said, her voice soft but resolute. "I'm here, Rafe. I'm not going anywhere."

He swallowed hard, his eyes glistening as he stared at their joined hands. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking.

She shook her head, her thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. "Don't apologize. Just—just don't do that again, okay? You scared me so much." Her voice broke on the last word, and she bit her lip to keep the tears at bay.

His fingers twitched weakly against hers, and he gave a faint nod. "I'll try," he said, his lips curving into the faintest shadow of a smirk.

Despite the overwhelming relief, a small laugh escaped her, shaky and filled with raw emotion. "That's not very convincing," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

His smirk grew just slightly, and his blue eyes held hers with a tenderness that made her chest ache. "I mean it," he said softly. "For you, I'll try."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear those words until now, and the sincerity in his voice made her believe him.

She leaned forward, her free hand reaching out to brush a strand of his messy hair from his forehead. Her fingers lingered, tracing the line of his temple as she whispered, "You're so stubborn, you know that?"

His smile widened just a little, and his eyes softened. "Takes one to know one," he replied, his voice still hoarse but laced with affection.

She shook her head, but a small, relieved smile broke through her tears. "Just focus on getting better, okay? We'll figure everything else out later."

His gaze didn't waver, and for a moment, he looked at her like she was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. "You're really not going anywhere?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost childlike in its vulnerability.

She squeezed his hand gently, her thumb brushing over his knuckles again. "No, Rafe. I'm not going anywhere."

As she sat there, holding his hand and watching him, she couldn't help but think how fragile and beautiful he looked in this moment—like he was finally letting her see the parts of him he usually kept hidden. Slowly, she leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead, her lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. She then leaned back, her heart twisting at the way his eyes followed her like she was his anchor. She tried to keep herself steady, to not let her emotions completely overwhelm her, but it was hard when he was looking at her like that—vulnerable yet grateful, like she was the most important person in the room.

"You're really something, you know that?" Rafe rasped, his lips curving into a faint, tired smirk.

She rolled her eyes softly, though her expression held nothing but affection. "I could say the same about you, Cameron," she replied, her voice warm despite the lingering ache in her chest.

His smile widened a fraction, but his eyes still held that serious, tender gleam. "I mean it. You didn't have to stay. Most people would've bailed."

Her chest tightened, and she shook her head slightly. "Don't give me that 'most people' excuse. I'm not most people, Rafe. You know that by now."

He chuckled faintly, the sound raspy but genuine. "Yeah," he said, his voice softening. "I do know that." His hand shifted in hers, his fingers brushing against hers in a quiet gesture of gratitude.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the quiet hum of the hospital room filling the space between them. But Rebeca could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing against her, and she knew they couldn't ignore it forever.

"You know," she began softly, her voice hesitant, "once you're out of here, we're going to have to talk. Really talk."

His eyes searched hers, and he nodded slowly. "I know," he said, his voice low but steady. "I owe you that much."

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers tightening around his. "It's not about owing me anything, Rafe. I just—" She paused, searching for the right words. "I just want to make sure we're both okay. That this—whatever this is—isn't too much for you. Or for me."

His expression softened even further, and he tilted his head slightly, a flicker of that familiar teasing glint returning to his eyes. "You think I'm gonna let you get rid of me that easily, Rebeca?"

Her name on his lips sent a little flutter through her chest, and she rolled her eyes lightly, though a smile tugged at her mouth. "I don't know," she said, her tone playful but edged with honesty. "You have a way of making things complicated, Cameron."

He grinned faintly, the smirk on his lips bolder now. "Yeah, well, you're not exactly simple either, Becks."

Her laughter bubbled up again, and she shook her head, a warmth spreading through her chest despite the heaviness of the situation. "Touché."

His smile lingered, but his gaze grew serious again, his hand shifting slightly in hers. "For real, though," he said, his voice softer now. "I want to figure this out. Whatever 'this' is. With you."

Her heart stuttered, and she found herself holding her breath for a moment. The honesty in his voice, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing he wanted—it was almost too much.

"Okay," she said quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "We'll figure it out. Together."

His hand squeezed hers gently, and he gave her a small, tired smile. "Together," he echoed, the word holding more weight than she could have imagined.

A flicker of his old mischievousness returned as his smirk widened slightly. "But I'm warning you, Rebeca—once I'm out of here, you're not gonna have an excuse to fuss over me anymore. You ready for that?"

She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a wry smile. "Oh, I think you'll find a way to keep things interesting, Cameron. You always do."

He chuckled faintly, the sound weaker than usual but still full of warmth. "You know me so well," he said, his tone teasing but tinged with affection.

She smiled back at him, her heart lighter than it had been in hours. "Yeah," she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet certainty. "I do."

For a moment, the two of them just sat there, the world outside the hospital room fading away. It wasn't perfect, and it wasn't easy, but as she looked into his eyes, she knew one thing for sure: whatever came next, they'd face it together.

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𝓣WO WEEKS LATER.

Rebeca had never felt so out of place in her life. She stood in front of the mirror, trying to adjust the straps of the dress Sarah had practically forced her into. It wasn't that she didn't like the dress—it was just that it was far more elegant and sophisticated than anything she'd ever worn. Black silk that clung to her body in all the right ways, and a low neckline that made her feel both exposed and invincible at the same time. Her long dark hair cascaded in soft waves down her back, and she'd done her makeup with care, but it all felt... too much.

She had never been the type to dress up for a date—hell, she barely even considered this a date. She was just meeting Rafe, right? For dinner. Just the two of them. But Sarah had insisted. The moment Rebeca had told her about Rafe's "date invitation" to dinner, Sarah had been all over it, offering advice on everything from the dress to the shoes. She was even the one who insisted Rebeca wear heels, much to Rebeca's dismay.

"Sarah, I can't wear these." Rebeca muttered, wiggling her feet in the heeled sandals Sarah had suggested. "I feel like I'm about to trip and fall on my face."

"Oh, please, you'll look perfect." Sarah's voice floated from the other side of the door. "Now, come on. Open the door, I want to see!"

Rebeca hesitated for a moment, staring at her reflection. She was no stranger to feeling self-conscious, but tonight, her nerves were on overdrive. This wasn't just about how she looked. No, it was about the fact that Rafe had been on her mind every second since that day in the hospital. She'd been trying to keep her cool, to tell herself that this was just a casual dinner between friends—but who was she kidding? There was no denying it anymore.
She took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping out into the hallway of the house.

Sarah's eyes lit up the moment she saw her, and for a second, Rebeca forgot about her own anxiety and insecurity. The way Sarah's face softened, her smile turning into something that could only be described as proud, made Rebeca feel a little bit better about her choice.

"Holy shit," Sarah muttered, her eyes scanning Rebeca from head to toe. "You look amazing, Rebeca."

A soft blush crept up her neck as she tugged nervously at the edge of the dress. "I feel like I'm overdressed for this whole thing."

Sarah shook her head, stepping forward. "No, no, you look perfect. If anything, you're underdressed for Rafe's standards." She smirked, a teasing glint in her eye. "You know, I think he's already head over heels for you. But this"—she gave Rebeca a quick once-over—"this is going to seal the deal."

Rebeca rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "You're impossible."

Sarah's expression softened as she walked over to Rebeca, smoothing down the fabric of her dress. "I'm just looking out for you. But honestly? You and Rafe—there's something there. I can tell."

Rebeca swallowed hard. "I don't know if I'm ready for anything serious yet," she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. "I mean, he's been through a lot."

"I get that," Sarah replied, her tone serious for once. "But don't let your fear hold you back, okay? If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you don't know what you have until it's gone. You can't waste time overthinking everything. You deserve this, Rebeca."

Her words settled deep in Rebeca's chest, and for a moment, all the self-doubt and worry she'd been carrying melted away. She nodded, meeting Sarah's gaze. "Thanks, Sarah. I needed to hear that."

Sarah smiled and squeezed her shoulder gently. "No problem. Now go show him why he's lucky."

Later that evening, Rebeca found herself standing outside the restaurant, staring at the polished glass doors of The Sea Salt, a cozy, upscale restaurant perched on the edge of Figure 8. The view of the ocean was breathtaking, especially at night, when the sky turned a deep shade of indigo and the stars glittered in the distance. She could see Rafe standing just inside the door, waiting for her.

Her heart skipped a beat as she approached, and the moment their eyes met, she felt the weight of his gaze. His reaction—those intense eyes of his softening into something almost... vulnerable—made her stomach flutter.

As she met his gaze, his jaw slackened slightly. Without thinking, he placed a hand dramatically over his heart, as if it had stopped beating entirely.

"You're—" He paused, shaking his head with a small laugh. "You're absolutely killing me, Rebeca."

Rebeca hesitated, her cheeks heating. "Too much?"

"Too much for me to handle," he quipped, still clutching at his chest with a grin. "You look... perfect."

The sincerity in his voice, mixed with his usual playful charm, made her heart skip. She rolled her eyes to mask how flustered she felt. "You're laying it on a little thick, don't you think?"

"Not even close," he said, his gaze unwavering as he dropped his hand back to his side. "Honestly, Becks, you're stunning."

Her heart thumped, and she smiled, a little shy but also proud of herself. "Well, I did get some help. Sarah's probably somewhere on the other side of town, watching and judging me right now."

Rafe chuckled. "I'm sure she's somewhere watching, making sure I don't screw this up."

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks but tried to keep her composure. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Cameron.

As they stepped into the restaurant, Rafe held the door open for her, his fingers brushing against hers as she passed by him. She could feel the warmth of his touch, and that familiar spark ignited again, just like it always did when they were close.
The meal went by in a blur of laughter and teasing. The food at The Sea Salt was spectacular—fresh seafood, tender steaks, and desserts that made Rebeca's head spin with how delicious they were—but what really made the night special was the ease with which she and Rafe fell into their familiar rhythm. The flirtation was constant, but there was also something deeper between them, something that lingered in their quiet moments, their shared glances, and the soft smiles they exchanged.

"Okay, so I have to ask," Rebeca said, wiping her mouth with a napkin as they finished dessert. "What's your actual plan for the future? You know, beyond me."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, the playful grin never leaving his face. "Beyond you?" He leaned back in his chair. "Well, I suppose I should get myself sorted first, right?"

Rebeca couldn't help but laugh. "I mean, yeah. That's usually a good idea."

Rafe hesitated, his expression turning a little more serious, but not in an uncomfortable way. "I've been thinking about that a lot, actually. And... it's why I wanted to ask you out tonight. I've got a lot of stuff I still need to work through." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I'm going to rehab. For a month. To get totally clean."

Rebeca's heart sank, but she wasn't surprised. She'd suspected something like this might be coming, but hearing it aloud still felt like a punch to the gut.

"Rafe," she whispered, her voice gentle. "I think that's... really brave of you."

He met her gaze, his eyes full of raw emotion. "I've screwed up a lot of things, Rebeca. But I'm trying to get it right. For me. And for you, too."

She reached across the table and placed her hand over his. "You don't have to do this alone," she said quietly, her eyes softening. "You never have to do this alone."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. Just the sound of the soft ocean waves crashing against the shore outside and the hum of the restaurant filled the space between them. It felt right. More right than anything had in a long time.

Rafe squeezed her hand, his eyes filled with gratitude, before giving her that signature smirk. "Well, in that case... maybe I'll actually let you take care of me for once."

Rebeca rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled with something she couldn't quite name. "I'll take that as a challenge, Cameron."

The evening stretched on, and the night felt perfect—like a beginning.

As they walked out into the cool night air, Rafe dropped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her close, and for the first time in a long while, Rebeca felt completely at ease.
The drive back to Rebeca's house was quiet but comfortable, the kind of silence that spoke of mutual understanding rather than tension. The streetlights cast golden streaks through the car windows, reflecting off Rafe's profile as he drove. Rebeca stole a glance at him, her heart skipping when she caught the soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked peaceful, maybe even happy.

When they pulled up to her house, Rafe killed the engine, letting the low hum of crickets fill the space between them. He got out quickly and jogged around the car to open her door, earning an amused smile from Rebeca as she stepped out.

"Chivalry's not dead, I see," she teased, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.

"I'm full of surprises," Rafe shot back, smirking as they walked up the path to her front door.

The night air was crisp and cool, and the stars seemed brighter than usual, scattered across the inky black sky. Rebeca hesitated at her doorstep, turning to face him. He was standing closer than she expected, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his eyes soft and warm as they met hers.

"You really didn't have to walk me to the door," she said, her voice quieter now, the teasing edge gone.

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend a little more time with you," Rafe replied, his smirk softening into something more genuine.

Her heart fluttered at his words, and she felt the familiar warmth spreading through her chest. She looked down for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her bag. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, the ones she'd been holding back for what felt like forever.

Rafe tilted his head slightly, watching her. "What's going on in that head of yours, Becks?"

Rebeca hesitated, biting her bottom lip as she glanced back up at him. His gaze was steady, curious but patient. Her nerves prickled under the weight of the moment, but she knew she couldn't keep the words locked up any longer.

"Rafe..." she started, her voice soft but unwavering. "I just—I need to say this." She paused, swallowing hard before meeting his eyes again. "I love you."

The words tumbled out like a secret she'd been dying to share, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Her cheeks flushed, and she braced herself for his response, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Rafe's eyes widened briefly, his lips parting in surprise. But then, the most tender smile spread across his face, one that made her knees feel unsteady. He took a small step closer, pulling his hands from his pockets and letting them rest at his sides, as if he was trying not to reach for her too quickly.

"You love me?" he asked, his voice low and a little husky, like he was trying to wrap his head around the words.

Rebeca nodded, her lips twitching into a nervous smile. "Yeah. I do," she said, her voice gaining strength. "And I know it might be too soon or too much, but... I couldn't not say it. You mean so much to me, Rafe."

A soft chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "Becks, you're unbelievable, you know that?" His smile turned teasing, though his eyes were bright with emotion. "Here I was, psyching myself up to tell you the same thing, and you beat me to it."

Her breath caught. "What?"

Rafe let out a short laugh, finally closing the gap between them. "Yeah, Rebeca. I love you too," he said, the words falling from his lips like they'd been waiting there all along. "I think I've been falling for you since the first time you handed me that stupid espresso."

A wide grin spread across her face, and she couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up in her throat. "That's such a terrible way to start a love story," she joked, though her voice was thick with emotion.

"Hey, don't knock it. I like our story," Rafe shot back, his grin mirroring hers. His hand found its way to her cheek, thumb brushing lightly against her skin. His voice softened. "And I like you. More than I can even explain."

Her breath hitched as she leaned into his touch. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air between them crackling with something electric and undeniable. Then, like gravity pulling them together, Rafe dipped his head, capturing her lips in a kiss that was nothing short of desperate.

It wasn't slow or tentative—it was full of longing and raw emotion, as if he was pouring everything he couldn't say into that one moment. His hands slid to her waist, gripping her firmly but gently, while her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer like she never wanted to let go.

The kiss deepened, and she felt his breath mix with hers, the soft, barely audible sound of his sigh sending shivers down her spine. It wasn't just a kiss; it was a conversation without words, an exchange of everything they'd been feeling but hadn't dared to say.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless. Rafe rested his forehead against hers, his smile crooked but tender. "You're dangerous, you know that?" he murmured, his voice rough but affectionate.

"I'm dangerous?" she shot back, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "You're the one who kissed me like it was the end of the world."

He laughed softly, the sound warm and full of something unspoken. "Fair point. But you didn't seem to mind."

"Maybe I didn't," she admitted, her cheeks flushing as she bit her lip to keep from grinning too wide.

Rafe tilted his head, his expression softening. "I mean it, though, Rebeca. You've turned my life upside down in the best possible way."

Her heart swelled, and she reached up, brushing her fingers against his jawline. "You're not so bad yourself," she said softly. "I just—I can't lose you, Rafe."

His smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly covered it with a gentle squeeze of her hand. "You're not going to lose me. I promise," he said, his voice firm yet filled with emotion.

Rebeca swallowed hard, her thumb tracing light circles on the back of his hand. "I'm holding you to that."

"You should," he said, his tone gaining back a hint of its playful edge. "I wouldn't want you forgetting how much I love you, Becks."

"You mean Rebeca," she corrected with a mock glare.

"I mean whatever you want, babe," he shot back, smirking.

Her laughter bubbled up again, light and unrestrained, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything seemed right in the world.

They lingered on her doorstep for a few more moments, trading quiet jokes and lingering touches. When Rafe finally turned to leave, he glanced back, his expression soft but mischievous. "Goodnight, Rebeca. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight, Rafe," she replied, her heart full.

As she closed the door, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. And for the first time in a long time, she felt like everything was going to be okay.

The stars above her house shimmered like a thousand tiny promises, and for the first time in a long time, Rebeca felt the weight in her chest lift. They had fought their battles, stumbled through their chaos, and still, they had found each other.

Love, she realized, wasn't perfect or easy—it was messy and raw, stitched together with broken pieces and hope. And as Rafe turned to her with a smile that made the darkness seem distant, she knew one thing for certain.

Whatever came next, they would face it together.

Because some stories weren't meant to be neat—they were meant to burn bright, leaving trails of light in their wake.

━━━━━ author's note !
finally some happiness for my two babes !!!

FINAL CHAPTER BABES !!! 🩷 i hope you loved rebeca and rafe's story as i did, and great news....i'm going to publish a one shot for them on 12.27.24 !!! it's not going to say much for now because i want to keep it a surprise, but i really hope you're going to read it cause it's going to be a little something to give more closure to them !!
of course i'll notify you when it's out !!

let me know what you think and give a little star 🌟 if you like! interact pls i would really appreciate

thank you so much for the support on this story babes and see you soon 🤍
thanks for the attention 💗