casual + extra: Reader after leaving, she becomes pregnant with rafe's baby but she's already moved to wherever and she began raising her bby, and then years past, they met again because of rafes business trip and unexpectadly saw reader doing groceries with her child, and make rafe self reflect abt their times together and how reader was genuinely hurting during their casual moments. and then he later learns that the child was his because he saw that the child is basically a carbon copy of him. AAAAAAA (feel free to ignore this, i daydream to much)
Casual | Continued...
Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader
Word Count - 1587
Two years had passed since you left. Two years since you walked away from him, the man who had never understood the weight of his words or the heaviness of his actions. And yet, despite everything, you carried a piece of him inside you.
At first, you hadn’t realized. The pregnancy came as a surprise, one you hadn’t expected after that one last night with Rafe. The night that had felt like it was meant to be something more, something deeper, but turned out to be just another casualty of miscommunication and misalignment.
You had thought you could walk away from him, that leaving was the best thing for you, but there was no preparing for the shock when you found out you were carrying his child.
You left town. Moved far enough away that it felt like you could start over, like you could build something new without constantly bumping into reminders of the past. You were near the coast, just close enough to the Outer Banks to catch a whiff of salty air on a windy day, you settled into a quiet, simple life.
You didn’t want to reach out to him, couldn’t, even if you’d wanted to. You knew that once you told him, he’d either run or promise to be there and fail. So, you chose silence. You raised your child on your own, as much as your heart ached for the life you could have had if things had been different.
Your son grew quickly, and every day, you learned more about him. How he looked just like Rafe, the way his eyes sparkled when he was excited, the small smile that always seemed to dance at the corners of his lips. He was Rafe’s, through and through, even if Rafe never knew it.
You were still in that small, quiet town when you saw him again.
It was an ordinary day, your son in your arms as you pushed the cart through the aisles. Your son was busy scanning the shelves for the cereal you always bought, the one with the cartoon characters he loved. He was so innocent, so unaware of the emotions that were brewing just outside his little bubble.
You saw him before he saw you. Rafe. Standing by the produce section, looking a little too perfect in a blue and white striped sweater that probably cost more than your whole month’s rent. He hadn't changed much, still the same Rafe you knew all those years ago, but now there was something in his posture that was different. He was a bit older. More worn.
You tried to brush it off. But there was no ignoring the fact that your son, with his dark hair and bright blue eyes, was unmistakably his.
Rafe’s eyes met yours, and time slowed for just a moment. The connection was instantaneous, and it hurt. It was like every unspoken word from the past rushed forward, crashing into the present.
Rafe glanced down at your child, then back at you. His face changed in an instant, confusion, disbelief, and something else… guilt? He didn’t speak at first, just stared, trying to process what he was seeing.
You watched him, all those old feelings bubbling up like an ancient wound reopening. But you stayed calm, steady, and determined. There was nothing left to say to him.
"Is... is he...?" Rafe started, his voice tentative, as if he couldn't quite believe what was in front of him.
You met his gaze, calm but heavy with everything that had passed between you two. “Yeah. This is your son.”
The silence stretched, his mind working through the revelation, piecing it together, bit by bit. The resemblance wasn’t subtle. Your son’s eyes. His smile. That curious, unguarded way he looked at the world, like Rafe did when he let his guard down... before everything had fallen apart.
Rafe’s eyes flickered with emotion, something raw and unprocessed. You could see it how the reality was starting to sink in. He looked between you and your son, like he was trying to find the right words.
“I... I didn’t know,” he whispered, almost to himself. "I had no idea."
You shook your head slowly. “No. You didn’t.”
There was no bitterness in your voice, just the weight of truth. You had done it. You had raised your son without him, and while it had been hard, you had never regretted it. The man standing before you now didn’t hold that kind of power over your life anymore.
Rafe seemed lost for words. “I—I'm sorry,” he muttered, almost too quietly for you to hear.
You paused for a beat, watching your son as he played with the string on your hoodie, oblivious to the gravity of the moment. “You don’t have to apologize. I don’t need you to. I did this on my own, Rafe. I didn’t need you then, and I don’t need you now.”
His eyes dropped, that familiar guilt creeping in. He stepped closer, but you took a step back. “You don’t get to just waltz in now,” you said, a quiet intensity behind your words. “You don’t get to pretend like this changes anything.”
He opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come.
You watched him, this man who had once been so casual with your heart, who had made you feel disposable, like you were nothing more than a fleeting moment in his life. The same man who left you questioning your worth. You couldn’t let him do it again.
But as you stood there, a sudden realization hit you. Seeing him again, seeing him try to process this, the pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp. It was like a dull ache now, a part of you that had faded with time.
“I don’t hate you, Rafe,” you said softly. “But I’m not the same person I was when we first met.”
You turned away, your heart strangely at peace, even as it beat a little faster. Your son, your future, this was your focus now. You didn’t need Rafe to validate any of it.
Behind you, Rafe stood frozen, his gaze still lingering on the child who was, unmistakably, his. And as you pushed the cart toward the checkout, you knew that this was the end of something, even if he wasn’t ready to let go.
Rafe’s POV
I stood there, completely still, like I had been struck by lightning. My chest tightened, my mind racing, unable to keep up with the surreal moment I had just stumbled into. My heart pounded as I watched you walk away, and everything inside me screamed to stop you. To say something. To explain. But the words wouldn’t come.
My eyes flickered down to the boy, your son, and then back to you, walking away, a quiet but unwavering finality in your steps. The resemblance between us hit me like a freight train.
A carbon copy. Your son’s wide eyes, his dark brown hair, the small set of his jaw. I felt a wave of realization wash over me, the fog lifting as everything clicked. The kid wasn’t just similar to me. He was me, in every way that mattered.
A sinking feeling took root in my stomach. It was like a punch in the gut, one that left me breathless. This child, this boy who was too young to understand any of this, was mine. My son. My blood. My legacy.
I had been so careless. So detached. I was in and out of your life like you were just another convenience, a fleeting distraction. I had never really seen you for who you were, what you needed. I had ignored every small thing that should have mattered.
My mind was spiraling. Memories from the past flickered in my mind, unbidden. The nights when I left you cold, the casual words I’d thrown your way when you needed me most. The way you had looked at me, eyes brimming with something deep and unsaid, something I didn’t want to see then. I had shut it out, pretending it didn’t matter. And now, standing here, in the quiet aisle of a grocery store, I realized how wrong I had been.
I had hurt you.
That night, the night you had walked away from me without a second thought, I had assumed you were fine. That you were just another girl who had wanted something casual. It had been my defense mechanism, too: keep things light, keep things easy, never give too much, never expect too much. But now, in the wake of this revelation, I saw it differently.
I had hurt you. And not just emotionally. I had taken so much from you without ever giving anything in return. You had carried so much weight, so much pain, on your own, and I was too selfish to notice.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, just staring after you, but when I finally turned and walked toward the checkout, my heart was heavy. I could still hear your voice in my head. “I don’t need you now.”
You didn’t need me. Maybe you never truly did. And for the first time, I understood what that truly meant.
You were everything, and I failed you.
As I loaded my groceries into the car, I found myself staring at the empty space where my future should have been, and I couldn’t ignore the truth anymore.
My son was a stranger to me. And it’s all my fault.
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