angel - rafe cameron (outerbanks)

26 - the truth

chapter 26
the truth

by the time angie finally dragged herself out of bed it was midday. her phone buzzed with a reminder of the evening's plan—kiara's message from earlier, telling her about the goodbye at the dock. but angie couldn't shake the feeling of heaviness that had settled into her chest. how could she say goodbye to sarah when she was still haunted by everything that had happened with rafe?  she had spent the night replaying everything in her mind, trying to find a way to make sense of the person she knew with the one capable of shooting the sheriff. she couldn't make sense of it. there was no way she could just let him off the hook, not after what he'd done. but still, rafe was lingering in her mind. they had shared too much for her to let go so easily.

the room felt suffocating as she sat in the silence of her own mind, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. she should've felt relief, maybe even a sense of justice, knowing that what rafe had done was wrong, and that there would be consequences. but instead, all she felt was conflict—raw, deep conflict that gnawed at her insides. he wasn't the same person she had known, and maybe he never would be. still, she couldn't bring herself to fully let go. she wasn't sure if it was because she was still holding on to the rafe she wanted him to be, or because part of her still hoped there was more to the story, something she hadn't yet seen.

with a sigh, angie rolled off the bed and stood up, stretching her arms above her head. she couldn't escape the hollow feeling that settled in her gut. rafe wasn't the only thing she needed to confront. the truth was, she wasn't sure if she could ever fix this. not while so many unanswered questions hung in the air.

angie froze when she heard the sharp, frantic knocks on the window. it was a sound that made her heart skip a beat, her body locking in place as her mind scrambled to make sense of it. she slowly turned her head toward the balcony, barely daring to breathe. there, in the flesh, stood rafe.

his face was streaked with tears, his breath shallow and rapid as he looked at her, eyes wide with panic. blood was splattered across his chin, dark red stains marring the side of his face and dripping down to his shirt. angie's heart hammered in her chest, the sight of him so raw, so broken, leaving her speechless. she didn't know what to do, didn't know how to process the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.

before she could even think, rafe pressed his palm against the glass one more time, his voice cracking. "angel," he begged, his voice almost a whisper. "please. please don't hate me."

her pulse pounded in her ears, but she moved instinctively, her hand reaching for the door. she fumbled with the handle, too frantic to focus, and flung it open. before she could say anything, rafe stumbled through the door, his arms wrapping around her like he was trying to hold on to her for dear life. he collapsed against her, shaking violently as sobs wracked his body. she could feel the tremors in his chest, the desperation in his touch.

"i'm so sorry, angel," rafe gasped between ragged breaths, his words barely coherent as he clung to her. "i didn't mean it... i swear i didn't mean it." his voice was broken, his words tumbling out in a rapid stream, each one coated with guilt. "i didn't... i didn't know what i was doing. please... please don't hate me."

angie stood there, frozen, her body stiff under the weight of his desperation. she felt the heat of his tears on her skin as he buried his face in her neck, his hands clutching her tightly like he was afraid she might disappear. the sight of him—so shattered, so vulnerable—pierced through her. she had never seen him like this, and it was almost too much to process. her mind was spinning, the questions swirling in her head faster than she could catch them.

angie felt her breath catch in her throat as rafe's sobs echoed through the room, raw and desperate, each one breaking the fragile calm five minutes prior. she couldn't move—couldn't find the words. all she could do was hold him, her heart thudding painfully in her chest as she processed the weight of what he had done.