Page 117 of Unraveling Rain
She hesitates. “Yeah… It’s just something at the diner. They need me ASAP.”
My brows pull together. “Can Joss or any of your siblings help? I thought you were spending the night in Raleigh.”
She doesn’t answer. Just stares out the window, hands clenched around her phone like a lifeline.
By the time we get to my parents’ house, something in her is clearly off. Mom doesn’t notice—she’s too excited showing Rain all my pictures growing up—but I can see it in Rain’s smile. It’s forced. Polite. Not her.
The afternoon goes by quickly. After one too many goodbye hugs, it’s time to go. But my stomach knots.
As soon as we get back in the car, I glance over at her. “Are you sure everything is okay?”
She exhales slowly. “No. Things arenotokay. And I need to go home.”
It stings. This version of Rain feels like the ghost of the woman I first met.
“But what is it? Maybe I can help.”
“You can’t fix everything, Xander,” she says, voice tight. “This is something I have to take care of myself.”
I nod, jaw clenched, biting my tongue before I say something I’ll regret.
The drive to the airport is painfully quiet. She doesn’t glance my way at all.
Once we’re through security and sitting at our gate, she says, flatly, “Gio’s pilot will be waiting for me in Raleigh.”
I wait for more, anything, but she doesn’t say another word. Just sits there like she’s already gone.
“Rain, I need to know what’s happening,” I say, my voice low. “Are we… areweokay?”
She lets out a small scoff, followed by a shrug. “Of course we’re okay. Why wouldn’t we be?”
I stare at her, stunned.What the actual fuck happened?
Was I too rough last night? Did I trigger something?
No—no way. She was fine afterward. Laughing. Kissing me. Everything was perfect.
I can’t shake the feeling that she’s slipping through my fingers, and I don’t even know why.
When we land in Raleigh, my heart’s in my throat, hoping she won’t pull away.
“Let me walk you to the helicopter,” I say.
She nods, and I breathe again. I reach for her hand. She takes it and squeezes. She’s still in there, somewhere behind whatever armor she just put up.
At the edge of the tarmac, she stops.
“I’m going to miss you,” I tell her.
She looks up at me, eyes glossy but steady.
“I love you, Xander. Just… give me time to figure this out.”
I nod and kiss her one last time, memorizing the feel of her mouth, the taste of goodbye.
And then she’s gone.
How did something so beautiful, something that felt like the start of forever, unravel so fast?
