Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

thirty seven

Isla didn't bother going home. Why would she go home to her brother who held such hatred for her when she could just stay with Rafe and be surrounded by love?

There was things she wasn't facing. Especially since her confrontation with John B last week. But oblivity is bliss, right?

Rafe's home and estate was peaceful. Sure, it haunted him, memories around every corner. It haunted Isla too, but there was an irony to the fact that this place she was once basically trapped at had become her escape from her home. Maybe she'd grown out of living with her brother. Maybe home had become a person instead of a house.

Rafe felt the same thing. But Isla could feel the stress pumping out of him as he shuffled around the house. He had a lot to deal with financially. He was trying to figure out how to liquidate the money from the original gold and transfer some to Isla as a surprise. He wanted to do this for her. She deserved some money. She needed it. And he wasn't afraid to invest in her, because even if maybe it's ignorant, he was convinced he would marry her. Their lives would forever be intertwined.

Isla was getting herself a bowl of cereal when she heard Rafe in the other room. He was on the phone with someone, and he was frustrated. "Jesus Christ, it shouldn't be this hard!" he yelled into his cell.

Isla peered around the corner at him, her curiosity peaked. Why was he so angry? She thought he'd figure everything out by now.

"Fuck, I'll call you back, ok?" he groaned as he spotted her.

"What's that all about?" Isla asked.

"Nothing. Money bullshit," Rafe sighed. "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the party at The Boneyard tonight. I figured it would be nice to, you know, reconnect with our friends and stuff."

Isla raised an eyebrow, aware that he's trying to change the subject but also interested. "Well, for one, my friends and your friends are two separate entities."

"Ok, well you know what I meant. And maybe it'd be nice for you to meet some of my friends. They aren't that bad you know."

"Who? Topper Thorton? Kelce? Yeah no, no thanks," Isla shook her head laughing.

"I'm serious Isla. They'd like you. You're funny and you'd keep them on their toes," Rafe said. He was serious. Sure, his friends were rich assholes like himself, but they were still his friends, and Isla was his girlfriend. They'd have to interact at some point.

"I've met them both, Rafe. Never pleasant interactions," she replied.

"Just give them a chance, please. For me," Rafe gave her puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," Isla gave in. "But don't expect me to be nice."

"You're always nice, even when you try to be a bitch," he responded. "It's like your fatal flaw. You're too good to people."

"Well if Topper Thorton says a single word that pisses me off, maybe we'll fix that flaw."

———

Isla stared at the table of alcohol from a distance. Not only was her liquid crutch on that side of the beach, her friends were, and her brother. Of course they'd take his side of the argument. Well, JJ was looking over at her every few seconds but he stayed where he was. He wanted to talk to her, he wanted to understand. He sort of could. It wasn't hard to empathize with Isla, all he had to do was think about how complicated his emotions would be if his own terrible father died.