𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 ― rafe cameron

ογδόνταέξι ; 86

song of the chapter:
PRETTY BOY ; the neighbourhood

The following morning, the air was thick with the promise of rain, the sky a dull gray that seemed to mirror the heavy feeling in Margarita's chest. She had barely slept, the events of the previous night replaying in her mind on a loop. JJ and Kie's kiss. Rafe's quiet comfort. The way she had let herself crumble in front of him. It was all too much, and yet, not enough to numb the ache that had settled deep inside her.

She stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her skin pale and sallow, as if the emotions had drained all the color from her. She looked hollow. Empty. But she didn't feel empty—no, she felt everything, all at once. The sadness, the anger, the confusion. It swirled inside her, threatening to pull her under, but she kept it at bay.

A part of her still couldn't believe what she had seen. JJ and Kie, together. The image was burned into her memory, a wound that refused to heal. But as much as it hurt, it also brought a sharp clarity. She couldn't deny it anymore. She had been holding onto something that wasn't real, clinging to an idea of JJ that didn't exist.

And then there was Rafe. The way he had been there for her, without asking for anything in return, without trying to fix her. He had just... been there. His presence had grounded her, made her feel like she wasn't alone. And for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel like she had to pretend she was okay.

A soft knock on her bedroom door pulled her out of her thoughts. Margarita turned, her heart skipping a beat as she realized who it might be. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob for a moment before she pulled it open.

A moment of quiet passed between them before Rafe spoke again. "I'm not going to pretend I understand everything you're going through, but... you don't deserve what JJ did."

Margarita's heart clenched at the mention of JJ, but she didn't pull away from the conversation. "I just—I thought he was different. I thought we were different."

Rafe's expression hardened slightly, though his voice remained calm. "He didn't treat you right. You deserve better than that."

She looked away, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "I don't know if I deserve anything right now. I feel like I've made so many mistakes."

Rafe reached over and gently placed a hand on hers, stilling her movements. "We all make mistakes, Margarita. But you're not the only one to blame here."

She looked down at their hands, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the coldness she felt inside. For the first time in a long while, she felt like someone was truly on her side.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Rafe squeezed her hand lightly before letting go, the small gesture speaking volumes. "I'm serious. You don't have to go through this alone."

Margarita nodded, her chest tightening with emotion. She wasn't sure where this was all going, what this meant for them, but for the first time in days, she felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay. 

Rafe stood up from the bed, lingering for a moment as if he wasn't sure whether to stay or leave. Margarita could see the concern etched on his face, something unfamiliar yet comforting. She appreciated the space he had given her, the quiet support that didn't come with expectations or pressure. It was like he knew exactly what she needed, even when she didn't know herself.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked after a beat, his voice soft. "Go for a drive or something? Clear your head?"

Margarita blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. Part of her wanted to stay in the cocoon of her room, wallow in the aftermath of last night's heartbreak. But a larger part of her, the part that had been craving escape for so long, knew she needed to get out. She needed air, distance from the heaviness that clung to her like a second skin.

"Yeah," she murmured, nodding. "I think I'd like that."

Rafe smiled, a small, genuine one, and she found herself holding onto that sliver of light in an otherwise dark moment. Without another word, he headed toward the door, and she followed, grabbing her hoodie from the chair as she went.

The drive was quiet at first, the hum of the engine the only sound between them. Rafe kept his hands steady on the wheel, his gaze focused on the road ahead as if sensing Margarita wasn't quite ready to talk. The sky outside was still overcast, the threat of rain hanging in the air, but it didn't matter. The world beyond the car seemed muted, far away, and for the first time, Margarita felt like she could breathe.

"Where are we going?" she asked after a while, her voice cutting through the silence.

"Does it matter?" Rafe glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised in a playful challenge.

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "No, I guess it doesn't."

And it really didn't. For once, she didn't care where they ended up, as long as it was somewhere away from everything that had happened. Somewhere she could just exist without the weight of her emotions crushing her.

They drove for what felt like hours but was probably only a handful of minutes, the scenery changing from the familiar streets of the Outer Banks to more open roads. Eventually, Rafe pulled off onto a small dirt path, leading them to a quiet, secluded beach. The waves were calm, gently lapping at the shore, and the world felt still. Empty. But in a good way.

Rafe killed the engine and looked over at her, his blue eyes searching hers. "This place has always helped me clear my head," he admitted, surprising her with the sudden vulnerability.

Margarita nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and stepping out of the car. The air was cool against her skin, and the scent of the ocean filled her lungs as she walked toward the shore, her feet sinking into the damp sand. Rafe followed behind her, staying a few steps back, giving her space to process.

She stood there for a moment, watching the waves roll in and out, her mind still reeling but somehow quieter in the presence of the sea. It was easier to think here, easier to feel without the suffocating weight of everything that had happened the night before.

"I don't know how to move on," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "From JJ, from everything. It all feels... so messy."

Rafe was silent for a moment, then he moved closer, standing beside her as he looked out at the water. "Moving on isn't about forgetting. It's about figuring out what you want for yourself, not for anyone else." His words were calm, thoughtful, and they struck a chord deep inside her.

"What if I don't know what I want?" she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

Rafe shrugged, a soft laugh escaping his lips. "Neither do I, half the time. But I do know that you deserve better than what you've been given."

Margarita looked at him, her heart pounding again, but this time it wasn't because of sadness or fear. There was something in his gaze, something steady and sure, that made her feel like maybe she wasn't as lost as she thought.

They stood there together, the sound of the ocean filling the gaps in their conversation, and for the first time in a long time, Margarita felt a strange sense of peace. Maybe she didn't have all the answers yet, but being here, with Rafe beside her, made her feel like she might eventually find them.

She turned to him, her eyes softening as she spoke. "Thanks for this. For everything."

Rafe smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Anytime."

--- end of chapter