𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 | 𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧

０２５．

Waiting on his father was purgatory.

With each passing second, it grew harder and harder for Rafe to resist the temptation. To stay where he was, waiting steadfast at the port where he promised to meet Ward, when he could turn around and march right back to Ren's apartment and climb back into bed with her. To undo all of it, to pretend like he'd never even thought about leaving her, to choose her all over again.

But Rafe's choice was made. Had been made hours ago. There was no undoing it.

So he stayed, drumming his thumbs on the worn wood of a dock as he waited for the familiar cruiser to coast into port. And it did, long after the sun had risen and the daunting craving for coke had crawled up Rafe's spine and settled on his shoulders once more.

He hadn't craved coke in weeks.

But there it was, that desperate, panicky feeling. And with it came the anxiety and the unsteadiness that always showed up when Rafe thought about Ward. But still he smiled and waved when his father finally arrived, climbing into the boat without hesitation.

Rafe couldn't bare a parting glance over his shoulder. If he looked back at the island, at Ren's island, he wasn't sure that he wouldn't jump right out of the boat and swim back to her. Especially as his chest constricted until he felt as though he couldn't breathe, the realization that he was going back to the stress of Ward Cameron's orbit threatening to crush him.

"Do you love her?"

His father's voice was neutral. Quiet, even, compared to the howling wind and the waves battering against the cruiser. But the question in itself was enough to have Rafe tensing, turning to analyze his father's face suspiciously.

But Ward just stared out at the horizon. Waiting.

Rafe considered lying. Thought about how it might be in his best interest and in Ren's to tell his father that whatever was between them was little more than casual. It would keep her out of his father's sights, and after seeing what Ward had done to John B... Rafe wouldn't be able to live with himself if his father ever put a hand on Ren. But to even say anything but the truth made his stomach turn, and so Rafe nodded. "Yeah. I love her."

"And you left anyways? For us?"

Again, Rafe nodded.

Ward finally brought his gaze to his son's, offering a closed-lipped smile as he dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I'm proud of you, Rafe," he said. "You did what Sarah never could. You put the family first. I'm so proud of you."

That was the only thing Rafe had ever wanted from his father. He just wanted credit, he wanted to know that Ward was proud of him, that Ward saw him. But he felt hollow as his father's praises sunk in. Felt like he'd made a mistake.

Rafe turned back to the front of the boat. As they drew near to their little island house, he let his mind wander back to Sainte-Anne, back to the green-eyed girl he'd seen on the docks all those weeks ago.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Wheezie was waiting on the front steps when they arrived. And then she was sprinting across the lawn and down to the rickety dock, sparing only a half-second to stabilize her footing lest she fall into the water before she launched herself at her brother.

For a heartbeat, that tightness in Rafe's chest loosened. He wrapped his arms around Wheezie, nearly unable to swallow his guilt as he realized that she was crying. Her tears soaked the shoulder of his shirt as he resting his cheek against the crown of her head. "I'm sorry, Wheezie," he said softly.