Page 177 of Shattered Hoops

“I won’t argue,” I whisper.

Rafe flinches like he wanted me to. Like he wanted a fight. Instead, he just closes his eyes, breathing hard. When he opens them again, he looks wrecked.

And still standing.

I reach for him, because instinct wins. Because love wins. Because I can’t not touch him.

He lets me.

We hug. He clings to me so tightly it feels like he’s trying to fuse us back together by force.

I press my mouth to his hair, shaking. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“I love you,” he says hoarsely.

“I love you too,” I say, voice breaking completely. And then I make myself step back.

Rafe doesn’t reach for me again. He just watches me, silent, devastated. As if he knows and finally understands that this isn’t a threat—it’s an ending.

I wipe my face quickly, ashamed of the tears. “Go to rehab,” I say softly. “Please. Just… go.”

Rafe nods once. He doesn’t promise. He doesn’t argue. He just nods. And something about that nod makes my heart split open.

I turn and walk out of the room before I can change my mind. Before I can throw myself back into his arms and pretend love is enough to fix what fear has done.

Downstairs, voices quiet when I appear. Rachael looks up first. Her expression shifts instantly.

Miles stands. “Ollie?—”

I shake my head. “He agreed,” I say, voice raw. “He’ll go.”

Relief floods the room, but it doesn’t touch me. How can it when I can already feel it? The shape of what comes after.

I leave the mansion without saying much else. Vinny offers to drive me, but I refuse. I don’t trust myself to sit in the same car as anyone right now.

I just walk.

Down the driveway. Past the gates. Into a street that looks exactly the same as it did yesterday, indifferent and bright.

My hands shake. My chest aches. My body feels like it’s been hollowed out.

And even as I walk, I can still feel Rafe’s arms around me. I can still hear his voice:“I won’t stop being your husband.”

The words should comfort me. They don’t. They haunt me.

I know what I’ve done, what I’ve chosen. And with sick certainty, I know that the person who will carry this pain the longest won’t be me. It will be him.

I keep walking anyway, because I love him. And because loving him is the only thing I’ve ever done right.

Even now.

Especially now.