Always you

Chapter 33

The morning sun poured through the large windows of Tannyhill, casting a warm glow across the dining room as Rafe and Sasha made their way downstairs for breakfast. Both had changed into more presentable attire—Sasha in a light sundress that complemented her radiant complexion, and Rafe in a crisp white shirt and jeans, though his disheveled hair and the tension etched on his face betrayed his inner turmoil.

Sasha walked beside him, her hand brushing his arm, trying to offer him some measure of comfort. "You've barely said anything this morning," she said softly as they approached the dining table.

"I'm fine," Rafe replied, but the forced tightness in his voice told her otherwise. He avoided her gaze as he pulled out her chair and took his seat across from her.

Rose was already seated, sipping her tea and browsing her tablet. She offered Sasha a kind smile, but her gaze barely lingered on Rafe. A moment later, Ward entered the room, his presence filling the space with palpable tension.

"Good morning, Sasha," Ward said in a clipped tone, offering her a polite nod before taking his place at the head of the table. He didn't spare Rafe even a glance.

"Good morning, Ward," Sasha replied politely, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. But she could feel the unspoken animosity crackling between father and son.

Rafe, clearly bristling, pushed his eggs around his plate without eating. His jaw clenched, and he glanced at Ward, his lips pressing into a thin line. Sasha reached across the table, resting her hand gently on his. "Just eat something," she whispered, her tone encouraging.

Rafe gave her a small nod but barely touched his food.

After breakfast, Sasha found herself in the living room with Sarah and Wheezie. Sarah sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through her phone, while Wheezie flipped through a glossy magazine. The atmosphere felt lighter than at the dining table, but Sasha couldn't shake the unease lingering from Rafe's behavior.

Through the large glass windows, she spotted Rafe stepping into the garden, his phone pressed to his ear. He paced back and forth, his hand raking through his hair. Sasha's brows knit together as she watched him. His body language was stiff, his movements sharp and restless.

"Who's he talking to?" Sarah asked, noticing Sasha's gaze.

"I don't know," Sasha murmured.

"Looks intense," Sarah added, glancing out the window before shrugging and returning to her phone.

Sasha kept her eyes on him, trying to decipher the nature of the conversation through his gestures and expressions. But she could hear nothing, and his back was mostly turned to the house.

After a few minutes, Rafe ended the call and headed back inside. His face was an unreadable mask, but there was something in his eyes—a mixture of determination and unease. He walked straight to Sasha.

"I need to go out for a bit," he said quietly, his voice controlled but distant.

Sasha's brow furrowed. "Where are you going?"

"It's nothing," he replied quickly, brushing off the question. "I'll be back soon. Don't worry."

"But Rafe—"

He silenced her with a quick kiss, his lips lingering on hers for a moment longer than usual. When he pulled back, there was a faint trace of guilt in his expression, though he tried to hide it.

"I'll be back," he said again before turning and walking toward the front door.

Sasha stood there, watching him leave, her chest tightening with worry. Something was going on, and she hated being kept in the dark. But she also knew Rafe well enough to realize that pressing him further would only push him away.