𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

πενήνταοκτώ ; 58

song of the chapter:
I KNOW YOU ; faye webster

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. Margarita lay still in bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind a haze of thoughts she couldn't quite piece together. The house was quiet—too quiet. She was used to the noise, the distractions, the constant hum of life moving around her. But now, in the stillness, everything felt heavier.

She had barely slept. The night had dragged on, her body restless, her mind unable to settle. Every time she closed her eyes, it felt like a weight pressed down on her chest, making it impossible to breathe. She rolled over onto her side, glancing at her phone. No messages. Not from Rafe, not from anyone. The silence was deafening.

She thought about Rafe. He had stayed clean for her, had done everything right, even when she couldn't. The thought gnawed at her, made her stomach twist with guilt. He had fought his demons, while hers were still lurking, whispering in the back of her mind, dragging her down when she least expected it. She couldn't escape them, no matter how hard she tried.

For a moment, she wondered if she deserved him—if she deserved anyone. The person she had become wasn't who she used to be, and she wasn't sure how to find her way back. She wasn't even sure she wanted to.

Margarita sat up slowly, the room spinning slightly as she did. She let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair, feeling the weight of the day ahead pressing down on her before it even began. She had to get up, had to move, but all she wanted to do was sink back into the bed, close her eyes, and disappear.

The sun was shining, the world outside was alive, but all she felt was the cold creeping in again. The warmth of the day couldn't reach her, just like it hadn't for months now.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, planting her feet on the floor. It felt like a small victory just to stand up, but even that was exhausting. She grabbed a hoodie from the chair and pulled it on, despite the heat outside. It made her feel safe, even if it couldn't fix what was broken inside.

She needed air. She needed something to clear her head, even if it was only for a few minutes.

Pulling on her shoes, she stepped outside onto the porch, the warm morning air hitting her immediately. But still, she shivered.

Her hoodie zipped tight despite the warmth. The sun had already begun its ascent, casting a golden hue over everything, but to her, it felt distant, almost mocking. She walked toward the edge of the porch, her bare feet touching the cool wood, and stood still for a moment, closing her eyes as if hoping to absorb some of the light, some of the heat.

Nothing.

The familiar numbness sat in her chest, dull and unyielding, just as it had for so long. She wrapped her arms around herself, glancing out at the street, the sound of birds and distant waves barely registering in her mind.

She thought about Rafe again—how he had managed to clean up his life for her. How he had faced his struggles head-on, while she kept falling deeper into hers. She hated that. She hated how much she admired him for it, and how, at the same time, it only made her feel worse about herself. He had found his strength, but where was hers?

Margarita took a few steps forward, her feet now on the gravel path leading away from the house. She couldn't stay here. Not in this silence, not with her thoughts. She started walking, aimlessly at first, not caring where she ended up. The roads were empty, and the morning still held that quiet calm before the world fully woke up.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, breaking the silence. She hesitated before pulling it out. Rafe.

Rafe Cameron
Hey, haven't heard from you in a bit. Everything okay? Miss you.

His words were simple, but they tugged at something deep inside her. She stared at the screen for a moment, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. What was she supposed to say? That she missed him too? That she wasn't okay? That no matter how much she tried, she couldn't shake this cold feeling that had wrapped itself around her heart?

She shoved the phone back into her pocket without replying. She wasn't ready to face him, not like this. Not when she didn't even know how to explain what was happening to her.

Her steps quickened as she walked down the street, trying to outrun her thoughts. She found herself heading toward the beach, the only place that ever felt like some sort of escape. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air—it was all so familiar, like a lullaby that had once soothed her but now felt distant, out of reach.

As she approached the shore, she kicked off her shoes and let her toes sink into the sand. The warmth of it beneath her feet should've been comforting, but all she could feel was that lingering cold. She walked closer to the water, watching as the waves rolled in and out, each one teasing the edge of the shore before pulling back.

Standing there, Margarita felt small. The vastness of the ocean stretched out before her, endless and overwhelming. She wanted to lose herself in it, to disappear beneath the surface and let the waves carry her away from everything. From her thoughts, from her pain, from the weight she carried.

But she didn't move.

Instead, she just stood there, watching the waves crash and feeling the wind whip through her hair, wondering how long she could keep pretending to be okay.

--- end of chapter