Fragile Hearts | RAFE CAMERON

Thirty Seven | D A R K N I G H T

A/N : 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗎𝗅𝗍, 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖼𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗏𝖺𝗂𝗅𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾. ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴠɪꜱɪᴛ ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱ://ᴡᴡᴡ.ʀᴀɪɴɴ.ᴏʀɢ.

I slumped against Tommy's nursery wall, my hair a tangled mess, my eyes feeling like they were going to droop out of my head. Tommy was screaming at the top of his lungs, his tiny face red with rage. I had no idea what was wrong this time, but I was at my wit's end.

We'd had a disastrous morning at daycare, with Tommy refusing to nap and throwing toys at the other kids. The teachers had looked frazzled, and I'd felt guilty for leaving them to deal with my little troublemaker. And now, here we were, back at home, and Tommy was still going strong.

I sighed and rubbed my temples, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. I loved my little boy more than anything, but some days, like today, I just didn't know how much more of this I could take.

Just as I was starting to think that maybe I should just lock myself in the bathroom and hide, Rafe walked into the nursery, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked, eyeing Tommy, who was currently throwing a toy car across the room.

I shook my head, "I don't know, Rafe. He just won't calm down. And daycare was a nightmare this morning. I'm so tired..."

Rafe walked over and gently picked up Tommy from the floor, cradling him against his chest. To my surprise, Tommy's wails began to subside, and he nestled his head into Rafe's shoulder.

"Why don't you take a break and go out for a bit?" Rafe suggested, "Go get some fresh air, grab a coffee, maybe sleep over at Lilahs."

I hesitated for a moment, feeling guilty about leaving Rafe to deal with Tommy's tantrums. But then I looked at my disheveled hair, my worn-out expression. I needed a break. A real, honest-to-goodness break.

"Okay," I said, "Yeah, that sounds amazing. Thank you, Rafe."

Rafe smiled and handed me my purse. "Go. I've got this. We'll be fine."

I texted Lilah, who, thankfully, hadn't ventured into the world of motherhood just yet and was my lifeline. She lived a world away from the chaos of my house and my demanding little human. I'd texted her earlier, begging for a sleepover, and of course, she'd welcomed me with open arms.

I practically sprinted to my car, a worn-out tote bag slung over my shoulder. Lilah's dorm room was small but cozy, a haven of freedom from the never-ending cycle of diaper changing and soothing cries from Tommy. The moment I stepped inside, the tension that had been tightening my shoulders for days seemed to melt away.

"Oh my god, Scar," Lilah exclaimed, her eyes widening in mock horror as she took in my slightly frazzled appearance. "You look like you've been through a war. What's up with you?"

I flopped onto her bed, a sigh escaping my lips. "Tommy's been a nightmare." I launched into a recount of the day's events, the sleepless nights, the endless crying, the feeling of being completely overwhelmed.