𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔦

You'd arrived that fateful night with Rosie in your arms and an overnight bag that had somehow stretched into a semi-permanent stay. Sarah hadn't questioned it; she'd just opened her arms, her home, and her heart, turning the guest bedroom into a sanctuary for you and your daughter. John B. had been understanding too, giving you space while helping with Rosie when the morning sickness hit hard. It was mid-morning now, Rosie played quietly on the rug, stacking blocks into wobbly towers, her innocent laughter a balm against the ache in your chest. Sarah sat across from you on the couch, her legs tucked under her, a mug of herbal tea steaming in her hands. She'd been your anchor this week, listening to your rants, wiping your tears, and reminding you that you weren't alone.

"So," Sarah started gently, her voice breaking the comfortable silence, "have you thought more about it? The divorce, I mean. Are you really going through with it?"

You sighed, setting down your own tea, to soothe the nausea that had plagued you since discovering the pregnancy. Your hand instinctively rested on your still-flat stomach, a protective gesture for the tiny life inside.

"I already signed the papers, Sarah. That night, before I left Tanneyhill. My decision... it's divorce. I can't stay in a marriage built on lies. Not after what he did."

Sarah nodded slowly, her eyes filled with empathy. She reached over, squeezing your hand.

"I get it. God, I do. Rafe's my brother, but what he did... it's unforgivable. Cheating with Sofia, getting her pregnant while you're carrying his second child? It's messed up. But are you sure? Completely sure?"

You looked away, staring at the waves crashing in the distance. "I'm not taking the kids away from the Camerons, that would be too selfish. Rosie loves her dad, and this baby... they'll need him in their lives, even if it's not under the same roof. I won't be the one to rob them of that. But me? I can't pretend anymore. I've given so much already.”

Sarah tilted her head, her expression softening.

"You've sacrificed a lot for him, Y/N. Even before the marriage, before Rosie. Remember when he was at his lowest? The drugs, the fights with Dad... you were there. You gave up your job at the shelter to be by his side during rehab, moved in with him when everyone else walked away. You believed in him when no one else did. That's not nothing."

A lump formed in your throat at the memory. You'd been so young, so hopeful. Quitting your volunteer work, putting your dreams on hold to nurse him through withdrawals, nights of holding him as he shook, whispering promises of a better future. And when Rosie came, you'd poured everything into being the perfect wife and mother, smoothing over his rough edges for the sake of family.

"Yeah," you whispered, voice cracking. "And look where it got me. Betrayed. Pregnant and alone."

"You're not alone," Sarah said firmly, pulling you into a side hug.

"You've got me. Always. Whatever you decide, I'm here. But... just know Rafe's terrified of losing you. He's been texting me nonstop, asking for updates. He knows you're not ready to see him, so he's respecting that. For now."

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, Rafe's name flashed on the screen, another daily check-in.

You picked it up, reading the message: How's Rosie doing today? And the baby? Any morning sickness? Miss you both.

You typed back quickly, keeping it neutral: Rosie's fine, playing. Baby's okay. Sickness is manageable. No more, no less. No "Did you eat breakfast?" or "How's work?" like you used to. The energy for that had vanished the moment you overheard him with Sofia on the yacht. It was survival mode now, protecting your heart, one curt reply at a time.

Sarah watched you, her brow furrowed. "He's trying, in his own messed-up way."

"Trying isn't enough," you replied, setting the phone down. "Not after months of lies."

The conversation lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken regrets, until Rosie toddled over, demanding attention.

"Mama, up!" You lifted her onto your lap, her small arms wrapping around your neck. In moments like these, the pain dulled a little, reminders that life went on, even shattered.

Another text from Rafe popped up: Can I take Rosie to the amusement park tomorrow? The one with the roller coasters and games. I think she'd love it.

You hesitated, staring at the screen. The park was a Kook favorite. Rosie would adore it; she was at that age where everything was magical. And you weren't selfish, you'd never keep her from her father. Sure, you replied. She'll have fun.

His response was immediate: Great. Want you there too. Miss those family times.

The words hit like a punch. Family times. As if he hadn't torpedoed that with Sofia. Anger flared, but you brushed it off. I'm pregnant, Rafe. Bad morning sickness. Impossible.

Okay. Understand. Pick her up at 10?

Fine.

Sarah noticed your tense expression as you set the phone aside. "What was that?"

"Rafe wants to take Rosie to the amusement park. I said yes, for her. But he had the nerve to say he misses 'family times' and wants me there."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Classic Rafe. Impulsive, doesn't think before he speaks. But... maybe it's a sign he's regretting everything."

You shook your head, standing to pace the room. The guest bedroom upstairs called to you—a quiet space to process.

"Regret doesn't erase what he did. I've made my decision, Sarah. Divorce. It's the only way I can heal."

She followed you to the kitchen, where you busied yourself with making a snack for Rosie.

"I want you happy, Y/N. Truly. You've been through hell. But I see how scared he is. Rafe's done a lot of stupid stuff, the list is endless. Drugs, fights, bad decisions. But with you, he changed. Maybe... maybe, rethink it? Give him a chance to prove himself?"

Her words hung there, a gentle plea from the sister who loved her brother despite his flaws. You appreciated her honesty; Sarah just offering perspective.

"I know you love him," you said softly. "And part of me still does too. But trust is broken. How do I rebuild that when every time I close my eyes, I see him with her?"

Sarah pulled you into another hug, her presence a steady comfort. "You don't have to decide today. Take your time. And whatever happens, I'm on your side. Best sister-in-law ever, right?"

You managed a small laugh. "The best."

The next day you dressed Rosie in her favorite sundress, packing a small bag with snacks and sunscreen. When Rafe pulled up in his truck at exactly 10, your heart twisted at the sight of him, disheveled hair, dark circles under his eyes, but a genuine smile for his daughter.

"Dada!" Rosie squealed, running to him as he knelt on the porch.

"Hey, princess," he murmured, scooping her up and hugging her tight. His eyes met yours over her shoulder, filled with longing.

"Thanks for this, Y/N."

You nodded curtly, handing over the bag. "Have fun. Be safe on the rides."

"We will." He hesitated, as if wanting to say more, but thought better of it. "Text if you need anything."

As they drove off, you felt a pang missing the simplicity of those family outings. But Sarah was there, distracting you with plans for the day.

"You've got that appointment today, right? Doctor's check-up?"

"Yeah," you said, grateful for the shift. "First real one since finding out. Want to make sure everything's okay."

Sarah drove you to the clinic, her chatter full of stories about the Pogues, lighthearted gossip to ease your nerves. The waiting room was quiet, filled with expectant mothers flipping through magazines. When your name was called, Sarah squeezed your hand.

"I'll be right here."

The exam was routine, blood pressure, questions about symptoms. The doctor smiled as she applied the ultrasound gel. "Everything looks good. Baby's healthy, measuring right on track."

Relief washed over you, tears pricking your eyes at the whooshing sound of the tiny heartbeat.

"Gender?" you asked, though you knew it was early.

"Too soon, maybe next visit. But all signs point to a healthy pregnancy."

You left with a printout of the ultrasound, a black-and-white blob that represented hope amid the chaos. On the drive back, cravings hit hard.

"Can we stop at that donut shop? The one with the cinnamon sugar powders?"

Sarah grinned. "Pregnancy cravings? Absolutely."

Fresh dough, sugar, and spice. You ordered a dozen, munching on one as you drove, the sweet powder dusting your lips. It was a small joy, but in the heartache of the week, it felt like a victory.

Back at the house, Sarah busied herself in the kitchen, the aroma of chicken curry wafting through the air.

"Lunch will be ready soon," she called. "Spicy or mild?"

"Mild, baby's not a fan of heat yet." You rested on the couch, flipping through the ultrasound photo, letting the exhaustion of the morning catch up. A short nap later, you woke to the sound of Rafe's truck pulling up.

Rosie burst through the door first, her cheeks flushed, a stuffed animal clutched in her hand. "Mama! Fun!"

You knelt, pulling her into a hug. "Tell me all about it, sweetie."

"Dada win prize! Rides go fast!" She babbled excitedly, then paused, her little brow furrowing. "Dada bring girl. Big tummy. Say sibling."

Your blood ran cold. "What?"

"Girl say baby in tummy. My brother or sister."

Anger surged, hot and fierce. You glanced at Rafe in the doorway, his face paling as he realized what she'd said.

"Rosie, honey, go inside and play with Auntie Sarah, okay?"

Sarah appeared, sensing the tension, and whisked Rosie away. You stepped outside, closing the door behind you with a click that echoed like a gunshot.

"What the hell, Rafe?" you hissed, voice low but venomous.

"You took our daughter to the park, and Sofia shows up? Telling her about 'siblings'? Are you trying to confuse her more?"

He held up his hands, eyes wide. "It was an accident, Y/N. I swear. We were at the Ferris wheel, and she just... appeared out of no where. Said she was there with friends. I told her to leave us alone, that it was my time with Rosie. But she followed, kept talking. I didn't invite her, I didn't want her there!"

"Followed?" you repeated, incredulous. "And you couldn't shake her? Call security? Anything? Instead, she tells our three-year-old she's carrying her sibling? That's not an accident, Rafe, that's you not setting boundaries!"

"I tried!" he shouted back, frustration cracking his voice. "She wouldn't listen. Kept saying we need to talk about the baby, about co-parenting. I told her flat out, I'm not with her. But she's persistent. God, Y/N, I just wanted a day with my daughter!"

You stepped closer, jabbing a finger at his chest. "If you really want a life with her, why don't you just sign those fucking papers, Rafe? The earlier you sign, the earlier you can be with that fucking bitch and play happy family!"

His face twisted in pain, eyes glistening. "I don't want her! I don't want that life! It was a mistake, a stupid mistake that spiraled. I ended it months ago, but the baby's mine, so I have to be responsible. But you… you're my wife. I want to fix this. The life I ruined? I'll spend every day making it right. Please."

"Fix it?" Your voice rose, tears burning.

"How? By lying for months? By taking off your ring that day on the yacht? I sacrificed everything for you, Rafe! Before we married, I gave up my life, my job, my friends to pull you out of that drug hell. I held you through the nights you screamed, cleaned up your messes. And for what? So you could fuck your ex and knock her up while I planned our future?"

He flinched, the truth hitting hard. "I know. God, I know. You saved me. And I threw it away. But I love you, only you. Divorce? I have no intention of signing. We'll fight this out. Just don't end us."

You shook your head, exhaustion warring with rage.

"There's nothing left to say." Turning, you walked back inside, the door slamming shut on his pleas.

Inside, Sarah rushed over from the kitchen, where Rosie was happily eating curry. "You okay?"

You leaned against the door, breathing heavy, tears threatening. "No. Not even close."

Sarah pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back. "Come sit. Eat something. You need strength for you and the baby."

You nodded numbly, letting her guide you to the table. But the fight lingered, a fresh wound on top of old scars.

Outside, Rafe didn't leave right away. He sank onto the porch steps, head buried in his hands. Silent at first, then the sobs came deep, uncontrollable, the kind that shook his broad shoulders. He cried for the family he'd destroyed, for the woman who'd given him everything only for him to betray her. Minutes turned into longer.

Sarah glanced out the window later, after you'd retreated went upstairs to rest with Rosie for her nap. She saw him still there, slumped and defeated. Sighing, she grabbed her grocery bags, she'd meant to run errands earlier but stayed for you and headed out the front door.

"Rafe?" she called softly, setting the bags down on the porch. He looked up, face streaked with tears, eyes swollen and red.

She sat beside him, the sibling bond overriding her anger for a moment. "What are you still doing here?"

"Can't leave," he rasped, voice hoarse from crying. "I mean not like this."

They talked then, Sarah listening as he spilled the details of the park incident again, his regrets pouring out.

"She's done, Sarah. Signed the papers. Wants divorce."

Sarah's heart ached for both of you. "Yeah. She told me. She's hurting bad, Rafe. What you did... it's huge."

"I know." Fresh tears fell. "Tell me how to fix it."

"You can't force it," Sarah said gently. "But showing up, being consistent, that's a start. Just... give her time."

He nodded, wiping his face. Eventually, he stood, hugging her briefly. "Thanks for taking care of them."

"Always," she replied. "They're family."

As he drove away, Sarah watched, torn between loyalty to you and love for her brother. Upstairs, you sat on the guest bed, twisting your wedding ring, the one you'd slipped off earlier, now back on your finger in a moment of weakness. The diamond mocked you, heavy with memories.

You never imagined your life would turn out like this, married to Rafe Cameron, the infamous Kook prince of the Outer Banks, with a beautiful three-year-old daughter who lit up every room she entered. Rosie Rose Cameron was your world, a tiny bundle of curls and giggles with Rafe's piercing blue eyes and your smile. She was the reason everything had changed for the better, or so you thought. Your relationship with Rafe hadn't always been a fairy tale. Back when you first met him, during those wild summer parties on Figure Eight, he was a storm in human form volatile, addicted, and drowning in the expectations of his father, Ward Cameron. You were the opposite, the quintessential good girl, raised in a modest Pogue-adjacent family but with enough charm to cross into Kook territory without raising too many eyebrows. You volunteered at the local animal shelter, baked cookies for neighbors, and always saw the best in people, even when they didn't deserve it. Rafe didn't deserve it at first. His rages scared you, his cocaine-fueled nights left you in tears, and more than once, you'd walked away, swearing it was over.

But then he quit. Cold turkey, after a particularly bad episode where he nearly lost everything, including you.

"I can't do this without you," he'd confessed one rainy night on the docks, his hands trembling as he held yours.

"You're the only good thing in my life." From that day forward, things brightened. The Outer Banks sun seemed warmer, Rafe threw himself into the family business, Cameron Development, with a focus that surprised even his sister Sarah. And on the very day you found out you were pregnant with Rosie, staring at that positive test in the bathroom of Tanneyhill, your hands shaking and he'd dropped to one knee in the garden, a diamond ring glinting in the twilight.

"Marry me," he'd said, his voice raw with emotion. "Let's make this real. For us. For the baby."

You'd said yes, tears streaming down your face. The wedding was private, just family and a few close friends on the beach at sunset. Sarah had been your maid of honor, beaming as she adjusted your veil.

"You're the sister I always wanted," she'd whispered, hugging you tight. From that moment, she became more than a sister-in-law; she was your confidante, the one person who understood the Cameron without judgment.

Having Rosie changed Rafe in ways you never thought possible. The man who once punched walls in frustration now spent hours building sandcastles with his daughter on the beach, his laughter echoing as she toddled after seagulls.

"She's my dream come true," he'd murmur at night, pulling you close in your shared bed at Tanneyhill.

"A little girl who looks just like her mama." You'd watch him cradle her during storytime, his large hands gentle as he turned the pages of her favorite book about mermaids and pirates. Fatherhood suited him; it softened his edges, made him strive to be better.

But these past two months, Rafe had been distant, snapping at small things, burying himself in work calls late into the night, and vanishing for hours on his yacht without explanation. You'd chalked it up to stress. The real estate market in the OBX was booming, and with Ward gone, Rafe carried the weight of the family empire on his shoulders. When you'd broached the topic of expanding your family a few weeks ago, casually mentioning how cute it would be for Rosie to have a sibling he'd shut down.

"Not now," he'd said, his tone sharper than intended.

"Rosie's only three. I don't want her feeling left out. And honestly, I'm not ready for that chaos again." His words stung, but you pushed them aside. You were the good girl, after all a patient, understanding, always putting others first.

That morning, everything changed. You stared at the pregnancy test in the bathroom mirror, the two pink lines staring back like a secret you weren't sure you could keep. Your heart raced with a mix of joy and fear. Another baby. A little brother or sister for Rosie. But Rafe's words running in your mind Not ready. His strange behavior gnawed at you, those unanswered texts, the way he'd come home smelling faintly of saltwater and something else you couldn't place. He's just busy, you told yourself. Stressed. You'd wait for the right moment to tell him. Maybe in a few weeks, when things calmed down.

Rosie tugged at your sundress, her big eyes sparkling. "Mama, can we go see Auntie Sarah? I made a picture!" She held up a crayon masterpiece, a blob of colors that vaguely resembled a boat on the ocean.

You smiled, kneeling to her level. "Of course, sweetie. Auntie Sarah will love it."

Truth be told, you missed Sarah too. Life as a mom kept you busy, but Sarah was your lifeline, she’s a fellow outsider in the Cameron world who understood the pressure of being tied to it. She and John B. had their own place now, a cozy beach house on the Cut, but she still visited Tanneyhill often.

The drive to Sarah's was short, the salty breeze whipping through the open windows of your SUV. Rosie chattered nonstop from her car seat, singing made-up songs about dolphins and ice cream. You laughed, but your mind wandered to the tiny life growing inside you. How will Rafe react? You parked in Sarah's driveway, the house's weathered wood and hanging plants a stark contrast to Tanneyhill's grandeur. Sarah swung open the door before you could knock, her blonde hair tied in a messy bun, wearing cutoff shorts and a tank top.

"Y/N! Rosie-posie!" Sarah scooped Rosie up, spinning her around.

"Look at you, my little artist! What's this masterpiece?"

"It's a boat, Auntie! Like Daddy's!" Rosie beamed, thrusting the paper forward.

Sarah admired it dramatically. "This is going straight on the fridge. Come in, you two. I just made lemonade."

Inside, the house smelled like fresh lemons. You settled on the couch while Rosie toddled off to play with Sarah's collection of seashells. Sarah handed you a glass, her eyes sharp as she studied your face.

"You look... different. Everything okay?"

You hesitated, then blurted it out. "I'm pregnant."

Sarah's eyes widened, then she squealed, pulling you into a hug. "Oh my God! That's amazing! When did you find out? Does Rafe know?"

"This morning," you admitted, pulling back with a small smile.

"And no, not yet. He's been so stressed lately, work, I think. And a few weeks ago, when I mentioned maybe having another kid, he said he's not ready. He doesn't want Rosie feeling sidelined."

Sarah frowned, sitting beside you. "Rafe? Not ready? That doesn't sound like him. He's obsessed with Rosie. But seriously, Y/N, you have to tell him. This is huge news. He'll be over the moon once he processes it. Another little Cameron maybe a mini-you this time."

You nodded, but doubt lingered. "I know. I just... he's been acting weird. Distant. I don't want to add more pressure."

"He's probably just buried in deals. Dad left a mess with the business." Sarah squeezed your hand.

"But trust me, as his sister, I know he'll flip with joy. You're the best thing that ever happened to him."

Rosie bounded back, demanding attention, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics about Sarah's latest adventure with the Pogues, Rosie's preschool antics. You felt lighter, Sarah's enthusiasm infectious. She was the best, always supportive, never judging your choice to stick with Rafe through his worst.

Then Sarah's phone rang. She glanced at the screen. "It's Rafe." She answered, her voice casual.

"Hey. What's up?"

You couldn't hear his side, but Sarah nodded. "Yeah, I can grab that for you. On the yacht? Okay, I'll drop it off." She hung up, turning to you.

"He needs some documents from the house. Forgot them or something. Wants me to bring them to his yacht."

Your heart skipped. This could be the moment. "Let me do it. Rosie can stay here with you. I... I want to tell him about the baby. Surprise him."

Sarah grinned. "Perfect! Go get your man excited. Rosie and I will bake cookies while you're gone."

You kissed Rosie's forehead. "Be good for Auntie, okay? Mama will be back soon."

The drive to the marina was nerve-wracking, your hands gripping the wheel. The yacht bobbed gently in the water, the Cameron family crest gleaming on the side. You grabbed the envelope of documents from Sarah's place, it was some real estate contracts and climbed aboard.

"Rafe?" you called, but silence greeted you. The deck was empty.

As you moved toward the cabin, voices drifted out, Rafe's low rumble and a woman's voice, familiar yet out of place. Your stomach twisted. You crept closer, heart pounding.

"...you have to tell your wife the truth, Rafe," the woman said, her tone insistent. "This can't go on like this."

"I know, Sofia," Rafe replied, his voice strained. "But it's complicated. I never meant for this to happen."

Sofia. His ex-girlfriend from before you, the one who'd enabled his worst habits, the Pogue waitress who'd been a fleeting flame in his chaotic life. Your blood ran cold. You pressed against the door, listening.

"Complicated? I'm five months pregnant, Rafe. With your kid. You can't just pretend this isn't real."

The world tilted. Pregnant. Five months. That meant... two months ago, when Rafe started acting strange. You felt sick, the documents crumpling in your fist.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside. Rafe shot to his feet from the couch, his face paling. Sofia sat beside him, her hand on a visible baby bump, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She looked surprised but not guilty.

"Y/N..." Rafe breathed, eyes wide.

You thrust the envelope at him. "Sarah sent these." Your voice was steady, but inside, you shattered.

He took it mechanically. Sofia shifted uncomfortably.

"Is that yours?" you asked, nodding at her belly. Your tone was ice.

Rafe opened his mouth, but no words came. He just stared, guilt etched in every line of his face.

"Yes," Sofia said finally, her chin lifting. "It's his."

The confirmation hit like a wave crashing over you. You didn't cry, no, not yet. You turned on your heel, walking out as fast as your legs could carry you. Footsteps pounded behind you.

"Y/N, wait!" Rafe grabbed your arm on the deck, spinning you around. Sofia remained inside, out of sight.

You yanked free, fury boiling over. "Don't fucking touch me."

"Please, let me explain." His eyes were desperate, hair disheveled as if he'd run his hands through it a hundred times.

"It was a mistake. An accident. I was drunk, stressed about work. I don't love her, I love you. But I have to take responsibility for this. It's my kid."

Your gaze dropped to his hand, the one that had grabbed you. No wedding ring. He always wore it around you, a symbol of his commitment. But not today. Not here, with her.

"You don't love her, huh?" you spat, voice trembling with rage.

"But I guess you did, Rafe. Maybe you should let her know you're gonna be a single man too, real soon."

His face crumpled. "What? No, Y/N—"

You didn't wait. You stormed off the yacht, tears blurring your vision as you climbed into the SUV. He chased after you, banging on the window.

"Please, don't do this! We can talk!"

But you peeled out of the marina, heart racing. On the drive back to Sarah's, you forced deep breaths, one hand on your stomach. The baby. Don't panic. Stay calm for the baby. By the time you pulled up, your eyes were red-rimmed from silent tears.

Sarah met you at the door, concern etched on her face. "Hey, what happened? You okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just... time for Rosie to head home. Nap time."

She searched your face but didn't push. "Did you tell him?"

"Not yet." You scooped up Rosie, who waved her sticky hands, evidence of cookie dough. "Thanks for watching her."

Sarah hugged you both. "Call me if you need anything, okay? Love you."

"Love you too."

Tanneyhill loomed like a prison as you parked. Inside, you set Rosie down with her toys and retreated to your bedroom, the one you shared with Rafe. But it felt tainted now. You pulled out the divorce papers from the safe, ones you'd kept as a precaution during his darker days but never thought you'd use. Sinking to the floor in the walk-in closet, surrounded by his suits and your dresses, you began filling them out. Your hand shook, but determination fueled you. He cheated. He lied. For months.

Meanwhile, at Sarah's house, Rafe burst through the door minutes after you'd left. "Is Y/N here? With Rosie?"

Sarah crossed her arms. "She just left. What's going on, Rafe? You look like hell."

He paced, running a hand over his face. "I screwed up. Big time."

"Tell me."

He hesitated, then spilled it all, the affair with Sofia, the pregnancy, the confrontation on the yacht. Sarah's face darkened with each word.

"Are you a fucking idiot?" she exploded, shoving him. "Y/N is the best thing in your life, and you do this? After everything she's put up with?"

"I know!" he shouted back, but his voice cracked. "I love her. It was a mistake."

Sarah shook her head, tears in her eyes. "She's pregnant, Rafe. She went to the yacht to tell you. That's why she volunteered to go."

The color drained from his face. "What?"

"Yeah. Your wife is carrying your second child, and you just blew up your family for some fling with Sofia? Get the fuck out. Go fix this before it's too late."

Rafe didn't need telling twice. He sped home, tires screeching as he pulled into Tanneyhill. The house was eerily quiet.

"Y/N!" he shouted, bounding up the stairs. "Rosie!"

"Dada! Dada, here!" Rosie's voice piped from the bedroom. He rushed in, finding her on the bed hugging her teddy bear, the one Sarah had given you on Rosie's birth day, soft and worn from years of cuddles.

"Where's Mama, princess?" he asked, scooping her up.

She pointed to the closet. "In there."

Heart pounding, Rafe pushed open the door. There you were, on the floor amid scattered clothes, the divorce papers clutched in your hand, fully signed. Your eyes met his, cold, resolute, tears dried into streaks on your cheeks.

"Y/N..." he whispered, setting Rosie down gently. She toddled to you, oblivious to the tension, climbing into your lap.

You ignored him, signing another line. The silence was deafening, folding the papers neatly and placing them on a shelf where he could see them. Then you stood, lifting Rosie with you.

"Please," he begged, stepping closer. "Sarah told me. About the baby. Our baby."

You met his gaze, the man you'd loved through hell and back. But betrayal cut too deep. "It doesn't matter now."

"It does. I messed up, I know I did. But I love you. I love Rosie. I can fix this."

You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "Fix it? You got your ex pregnant, Rafe. You lied for months. No ring today? Were you planning to leave me?"

"No! God, no." He reached for your hand, but you pulled away.

"The ring, I took it off because it was loose, I was going to get it resized. Stupid, I know. But Sofia... it was a few times. Weak moments. It meant nothing. I ended it, but then she told me about the baby."

"A few times," you repeated flatly. "If you're going to keep that baby with Sofia, if you're going to be a father to it then you need to sign these." You nodded toward the papers.

"We're done, Rafe. I'm planning to separate from you. Fully."

His world shattered in his eyes. "No. Please, Y/N. We can work through this. Talk to me. Yell, scream, anything. Silence means you're done, and I can't lose you."

You met his gaze, the man you'd loved through hell and back. But betrayal cut deep. "I need time. Alone."

He nodded, defeated. "Okay. I'll sleep in the guest room. But I'm not giving up."

"There's no need for you to sleep in the guest room," you continued, voice steady despite the storm inside. "Because Rosie and I are going to Sarah's. Tonight."

Rosie whimpered, sensing the shift, burying her face in your neck. You soothed her instinctively, rubbing her back.

"You can't take her from me," Rafe choked out, voice breaking.

"I'm not taking anything from you, even Rosie. You'll see her. But this house, this marriage, it's over if you choose that path." You brushed past him, heading to pack an overnight bag for you and Rosie. Clothes, toys, essentials, your hands moved on autopilot.

Rafe followed, pleading. "I don't want Sofia. I want us. Our family. The new baby. God, Y/N, another kid with you? That's everything I want."

You zipped the bag, slinging it over your shoulder. "Too late. Actions have consequences, Rafe. Being Rafe Cameron doesn't excuse you anymore."

He blocked the doorway, desperate. "Yell at me. Hit me. Anything but leave, please."

You looked at him one last time, the silence your answer, the one he feared most. Then you stepped around him, carrying Rosie downstairs and out to the car. He chased you to the driveway, but you didn't stop. The engine roared to life, and you drove away from Tanneyhill, tears finally falling freely as Rosie dozed in the back seat.

Sarah would understand. Sarah would be there.