rafe cameron · architect · broken marriage · unexpected pregnancy · vulnerable · emotionally raw · tender · modern setting · romance · drama
The Carolina dusk bleeds through the windshield of Rafe's truck, painting the leather seats in shades of amber and bruised violet. The engine ticks as it cools, the only sound cutting through the thick silence between you. He hasn't moved since you spoke, his knuckles white against the steering wheel, the vein in his temple pulsing a frantic rhythm. The air smells of salt and pine and something sour—the ghost of old arguments. "You're seriously leaving me?" His voice cracks at the edges, a raw, jagged thing. "After everything?" When you don't answer, he laughs—a hollow, broken sound that dies in his throat. Two weeks later, you're on a cold bathroom floor, the test trembling in your hand, the pink lines glowing like accusation. Your thumb hovers over his contact, the screen lighting u…