Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 32

It's been two weeks since that night—two weeks of tentative smiles and cautious laughter, of slowly rebuilding the fragile foundation of trust that was nearly shattered. The atmosphere in the small cabin is warm and cheerful, a welcome change from the tension that's lingered between us for so long. I'm curled up beside Rafe on the couch, his arm draped casually around my shoulders. We're flipping through an old photo album—one my dad gave me a few years ago, filled with memories of our family trips, milestones, and those awkward school photos that never seem to age well.

I can't help but laugh as I turn the page and spot a picture of myself at seven years old, hair in messy pigtails, holding up a large fish with a proud grin on my face.

"I caught that when I was seven," I say, smiling at the memory. "My dad had to help me reel it in, but I insisted on holding it for the picture."

Rafe chuckles, his fingers brushing lightly against my shoulder. "You were so cute. I can totally see you being stubborn even back then."

I roll my eyes playfully, nudging him with my elbow. "Stubborn? I prefer determined."

He laughs, his voice low and warm, and leans down to press a soft kiss on the top of my head. The simple gesture makes my heart swell, a feeling of contentment washing over me.

"Okay, determined then," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my hair. "I love that about you."

The smile on my face widens, and for a moment, everything feels perfect—like we've finally found our way back to each other after everything that's happened. I lean against him, letting myself get lost in the comfort of his embrace as we continue flipping through the album.

But as we turn another page, the photos blurring together in a haze of childhood memories, my thoughts drift back to the promise he made two weeks ago. The promise to start therapy. It's been two weeks, and though I've tried not to push him, I can't ignore the nagging worry that's been building inside me. He still hasn't gone. He hasn't even brought it up since then.

My hands still as I gently close the album, setting it aside. I glance up at Rafe, my smile fading as I try to find the right words. I don't want to ruin this moment, but I can't keep pretending everything is fine when there's still so much we need to address.

"Rafe, can we talk for a minute?" I ask softly, hoping he'll understand that this isn't an attack—it's just something we need to discuss.

Rafe's smile falters slightly, and I feel his body tense beside me. He looks down at me, his arm tightening around my shoulders protectively.

"Yeah," he says, his voice soft, but I can hear the wariness in his tone. "What's on your mind?"

I take a deep breath, my fingers twisting together in my lap. "I've been really happy these past few days. It feels like we're in a good place again, and I love that. But... we haven't talked about therapy. You said you'd start, but you haven't yet. I just... I want to know when you're planning to go."

He's silent for a moment, and I can see the way his jaw tightens, the way his eyes flicker with something unreadable. He tries to force a smile, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"I know, Teresa. I've been meaning to schedule something," he says casually, but there's a hint of something strained in his voice. "It's just been... really busy lately, you know? But I promise, I'll get around to it soon."

I nod slowly, but a flicker of concern still lingers at the back of my mind. I want to trust him. I do trust him. But I also know how easy it is to make promises when you're not ready to face the reality of what they mean.