Pretty When You Cry ୨୧ Rafe Cameron

forty four

It had been two and a half months since Isla fled the Outerbanks. She was now almost five months pregnant. She still had over seventy nine million dollars in her bank account.

Today in particular was a rainy day in Manhattan. She could hear the rain pitter pattering on the windows of her apartment. She was running around like a madman trying to find a shirt she lost when she got a knock on the door. She opened it to see a familiar figure standing in front of her.

Rafe stood there, hair and clothes drenched from the rain. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept in days. He tried to stop himself from looking down at the now very noticeable bump Isla had. Seeing her felt like a breath of fresh air and a punch in the gut all at the same time.

He didn't know how she could do what she did to him. She went off the grid for over two months. He thought she died. He had to hire a whole private investigator to figure out where she was. She ran from him, but he would run to the ends of the earth to find her. And here she was, new haircut, very pregnant, and a little more... lost? Rafe didn't know, but there was something about her in that moment that just reminded him of a stray kitten.

"Isla," he greeted her. He stepped in through the door, uninvited. He looked around her apartment. It was tidy. She'd clearly made a life here. She'd collected trinkets and decorations and pictures of the city, all littering the space. So while he obsessed over her absence, she celebrated his.

Isla was caught off guard by the whole situation. She thought she was dreaming. He'd found her. She couldn't keep running anymore. She wanted to burst into tears. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her and tell her he forgave her. But she knew it wouldn't be that easy.

"What the fuck is this?" Rafe asked. "What, you made a whole new life for yourself? You just up and left like that?!!"

"I- No, I— I don't know, I just couldn't stay there, I don't know what I was thinking Rafe, I regret it—"

"Then why the hell didn't you come back, huh? Why did you stay here, miles away, hiding under fake names and no phone number, no email, nothing?! I couldn't get ahold of you!"

"That's because I threw my phone in the ocean," Isla said. "Look, I don't know what to say, okay?? I don't fucking know, I don't know what's wrong with me but there's something so wrong in my head—"

She was crying. It came suddenly. Tears flew down her face and she crumpled on the floor into a ball. Rafe had never seen her look so small. She was the strongest person he knew, yet she was defeated.

"What did I do, Isla? Did I do something? Why'd you run from me?" he asked, crouching down and touching her face.

She didn't answer, she kept on crying.

"Fuck, Isla stand up! Get up and talk to me!" Rafe said, pulling her up with him as he stood up. She looked at him all sad and doe eyed. "Why'd you leave me, huh? Why, Isla??!!"

"I don't know! I thought you were gonna walk away so I did it first, okay???" Isla screamed back, trying to hold back more tears from coming.

"What's that supposed to mean?! I wasn't going anywhere, Isla! I was there for you, of course I was!" Rafe was insulted by the very idea that she thought he was going to bail after finding out she was pregnant.

"You— you didn't want this, and I didn't wanna ruin your life—"

"No, I didn't want this Isla, but I sure as hell wanted you! You didn't ruin my life, not by staying! But leaving sure as hell did! So don't 'poor me, I didn't wanna ruin your life because YOU got me pregnant and you don't want kids ever' me. I don't fucking pity you, Isla! You left me!"