Always you

Chapter 37

The house was still dark when Rafe stormed into his room, his footsteps heavy as he closed the door behind him. The soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated Sasha, who was peacefully curled up under the blankets, her breathing steady. He moved quietly at first, trying not to wake her, but his hands trembled as he rummaged through the drawers of his desk, searching for his car keys.

In his haste, a small metal box tumbled from the top of the desk and hit the floor with a loud clang. Rafe froze, cursing under his breath.

Sasha stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. "Rafe?" she murmured sleepily, her voice thick with sleep. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, crouching to pick up the box. His tone was clipped, his movements stiff.

Sasha sat up, concern flashing across her face as she blinked herself awake. "Where are you going? It's the middle of the night."

"Out," Rafe said curtly, still rifling through the desk.

"Out where?" she pressed, her voice soft but insistent.

Rafe sighed, his frustration spilling over as he found the keys and shoved them into his pocket. "I don't know, Sasha. Just out. Drop it."

Sasha swung her legs over the side of the bed, watching him closely. "Rafe, talk to me. Please. What's going on? You've been on edge all day."

"I said drop it," Rafe snapped, his tone sharp enough to cut. He turned to face her, his expression dark and stormy.

Sasha flinched at the harshness in his voice but remained seated, her posture tense. "I'm just trying to help you," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, don't," he shot back, running a hand through his hair. "I don't need help. I need to handle this myself."

Sasha stood up, stepping toward him cautiously. "Rafe, whatever this is, you don't have to do it alone. I'm here—"

"Just stop, okay?" he interrupted, his voice rising. "I don't want to talk about it. Not now, not with you, not with anyone!"

Sasha froze, her arms falling to her sides. Her throat tightened, and she fought back the sting of tears. "Okay," she said softly, her voice trembling.

Her reaction seemed to puncture Rafe's anger, and for a moment, he looked like he might say something—an apology, an explanation, anything. But instead, he clenched his jaw and turned away, his hand already on the doorknob.

Sasha stepped back, giving him space. She knew pushing him any further would only make things worse. But as he opened the door, she couldn't help but call out one last time.

"Rafe... whatever it is, please be careful."

He paused for a moment, his back to her, before stepping out and closing the door behind him without a word.

Sasha stood there in the empty room, the faint echo of the door closing ringing in her ears. She sank back onto the edge of the bed, staring at the floor and clutching the blanket around her.

Whatever was going on with Rafe, it was tearing him apart. And now, it was starting to pull them apart too.

Sasha sat on the edge of the bed, her thoughts racing as she stared at the door Rafe had just walked through. She strained to listen, and then she heard the faint hum of his car engine starting. But the sound didn't fade—it just stayed there.

Her chest tightened as she wondered if he'd changed his mind, but then her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, her hands trembling slightly. It was a text from Rafe.

Rafe: I'll be okay. Go to sleep. Don't worry.

Moments later, the hum of the engine shifted, and she heard him finally pull out of the driveway. The weight in her chest didn't lift. If anything, it grew heavier.

The quiet of the room felt suffocating, pressing down on her like a physical force. The idea of staying there alone, with only her thoughts and the memory of their tense exchange, was unbearable.

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone again and opened her messages. She scrolled to Daniel's name and typed out a quick text.

Sasha: Are you awake? Can you come pick me up?

The reply came almost instantly.

Daniel: On my way. Be there in five.

Sasha felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it didn't last long. She paced the room, her mind replaying Rafe's expression, his clipped tone, and the way he had stormed out. She hated seeing him like this—so closed off, so tormented.

The sharp ringtone of her phone broke her spiraling thoughts. She quickly grabbed her bag and threw on a jacket. She didn't want to wake anyone else in the house, so she tiptoed down the stairs and opened the door to find Daniel standing there, his face etched with concern despite the late hour.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low but steady.

Sasha nodded, though her eyes betrayed her unease. "I just didn't want to be alone."

Daniel gave her a small smile, the kind that said, I understand. "Come on. Let's get you home."

The ride was quiet, but it was a comforting silence. Daniel didn't press her for details, sensing that she wasn't ready to talk yet. Instead, he turned the radio on low, the soft hum of music filling the space between them.

When they pulled into the driveway of their house, Sasha let out a long breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"Thanks, Daniel," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Anytime, Sasha."

The house was dark and still, but it didn't feel as stifling as Rafe's room had. She made her way to her bedroom, her heart still heavy with worry for him.

As she lay down, she clutched her phone tightly, staring at the screen and willing it to light up with a text from Rafe telling her he was okay. But the hours passed, and her phone remained silent.