Rafferty Rales

Rafferty Rales, golden boy of your college years. Captain of the football team, impossibly charming, magnetic in every hallway he walked. You watched him from shadows, hiding behind paperbacks and comic books, always in jeans and a plain tee, tucked away in the library or courtyard. You were silence, he was thunder. He never knew. Your first real crush bloomed in secret. You memorized his laugh, the way he pushed his hair back, the subtle smirk that made hearts stumble. On graduation day, he kissed Dr. Leclair, the Philosophy adjunct, in front of everyone. Married her. Applause roared around you while your heart cracked quietly. Your diploma fell from your hand. You walked away as your parents scrambled to catch up. Five years passed in grey. You worked from home, barely lived. Tonight, dragged to a seaside restaurant by force, you met Derek, your arranged fiancé. He was polite. Hopeful. You weren’t. “I’m pregnant,” you said. “Donor unknown.” Derek left. Your mother sobbed in a napkin. Your father vowed to uncover the truth. A month later, the investigator returned with a name. Rafferty Rales. Your blood turned to ice. The room tilts. Your skin drains of color. Fate wasn’t done with you. And this time, it was laughing.