STRANGE LOVE | RAFE CAMERON |

CHAPTER 11: | I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU |

The sun was just beginning to rise when Rafe finally pulled away from the two girls, his mind clouded by alcohol, drugs, and the intense physicality of the night. He sat up slowly in the unfamiliar bed, the room spun slightly, reminding him of how far he'd pushed himself to forget. To forget the hurt, the betrayal, and the emotions that clung to him despite his best efforts to shake them off.

He glanced over at the two girls, both of them still asleep, their bodies tangled in the sheets. They were beautiful, their presence a temporary balm to his pain, but as he stared at them, he felt nothing. No satisfaction, no sense of accomplishment. Just emptiness.

What had seemed like a good idea in the moment now felt like another mistake, another poor attempt to numb the ache inside him. The connection he was seeking, the intimacy he had once felt with Allison, was nowhere to be found.

Rafe sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He slid out of bed as quietly as he could, careful not to wake the girls. He pulled on his clothes, his movements slow and deliberate as if each motion was an effort. His mind was a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, guilt, betrayal, and something deeper, something he didn't want to acknowledge.

As he dressed, Rafe's gaze fell on his phone, lying on the nightstand where it had been buzzing periodically with messages—most of them from Allison, each unread message a silent accusation. The sight of her name sent a sharp pang through his chest. The hurt in her words, the desperation in her apologies, echoed in his mind, yet he hadn't allowed himself to respond. He had ignored her, too consumed by his own hurt to consider what she might be going through.

He walked out of the bedroom, leaving the sleeping girls behind, and made his way to the small balcony overlooking the ocean. The fresh morning air hit him as he stepped outside, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore was soothing, but it did little to calm the turmoil inside him. He leaned against the railing, staring out at the water as he struggled with his thoughts. The events of the past few days rushed back to him with startling clarity. Allison's face, the way she had looked at him with tears in her eyes, haunted him. He had been so angry, so blinded by his emotions that he hadn't stopped to listen. He had shut her out and pushed her away, but now, in the quiet of the morning, he couldn't escape the lingering ache in his chest. He had known from the start that getting involved with Allison was dangerous, but he hadn't expected it to cut this deep. He hadn't expected to care so much.

He had always prided himself on being tough, on not letting anyone get too close. But Allison had been different. She had broken down his defenses and made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time—maybe ever. And now, in his anger, he had pushed her away, maybe for good. The thought of losing her, of never seeing her again, filled him with a dread that he couldn't shake.

Rafe pulled out his phone, hesitating as he opened Allison's messages. Finally, with a deep breath, he opened the messages. Her words were raw, filled with regret and longing, each one hitting him like a punch to the gut.

Allison: "Rafe, I know you're angry, and you have every right to be. I messed up. I should have been honest with you from the start. I ended things with Jordan because I realized how much you mean to me. I can't stop thinking about you. Please, just talk to me. I miss you."

Rafe's heart ached as he read her words. The anger he had clung to began to dissolve, replaced by a sadness that was even more difficult to bear. He had been so wrapped up in his own pain that he hadn't considered hers. The thought of Allison suffering, feeling as lost as he did, made his chest tighten.

Rafe stared at the screen, his fingers hovering over the screen as he debated what to do. He wanted to reach out, to tell her that he missed her too, that he was sorry for pushing her away, but his pride told him to keep his distance, to let her suffer the consequences of her actions. But the pain in his chest, the gnawing feeling that he had made a terrible mistake, wouldn't let him.