Chapter 34 The Third-Act Conflict
the third-act conflict [trope]
the moment when all hope is lost and our protagonists find themselves in a sea of existential dread and overly dramatic internal monologues; not beloved by readers, yet this story needed it. yes, it did! because I said so!
Rafael’s car slices through the quiet streets, the engine a low hum beneath the tension that fills the space between us.
The streetlights blur past the windows, but I barely notice them, my mind too caught up in everything that’s happened.
I keep scanning the sidewalks, the parks, anywhere Ethan might have run to. He can’t have gone far without a car.
Rafael glances at me, his eyes full of concern. “How are you holding up?”
I exhale, trying to collect myself. How can I possibly feel? The case isn’t looking great, my brother hates me, and now he’s run away. “All of this, it’s because…” I trail off.
“Because he’s a dramatic teenager drunk on hormones?”
I tilt my head back against the headrest.
“Because of me,” Rafael says.
“No, Rafael. This isn’t on you.” I glance out the window, watching the world blur by, the streets empty. “It’s because of me. I went after a murderer. I didn’t tell Steve a word about your existence. All me.”
He grips the steering wheel a little tighter, his knuckles turning white. “Ethan is just scared. But he loves you, and he knows none of this is your fault.”
His words fall flat, bouncing off the wall of guilt that’s built up inside me. “But the way he looked at me, Rafael. He was so disappointed, so hurt. And he’s right to be. I ruined everything.”
I see a flicker of pain cross his face, but he doesn’t look away from the road. “You ruined nothing. You’ll win the case. It’ll be fine.”
I close my eyes, replaying the scene outside the courthouse in my mind, wanting to jump into my memories and change them. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
He glances at me. “Hm?”
“When you stepped between us. What you said to him. That was a mistake.”
His jaw tightens. “He pushed you. I won’t stand by and let anyone put their hands on you.”
“I know, but—”
“No one, no matter their age or gender or relationship to you. Ever.”
Oh. His reaction when Ethan stormed out of my place comes back to me.
How Rafael held me back, said my brother’s anger had scared him.
It’s about his dad—of course it is. I don’t know how I didn’t realize it before, but after the abuse he suffered, he must be triggered by screaming matches and violent fights.
I reach for his arm, rubbing it soothingly with my thumb. This isn’t how we’ll deal with conflict moving forward, but we don’t need to discuss it right now.
Steve’s words come back to me, painful like a thorn lodged under a fingernail. You need to decide what’s your priority is here. If it’s your brother… or your boyfriend.
Maybe there is no going forward.
We drive in silence for a while longer, and I keep searching the sidewalks, hoping for any sign of him. We pass the park where we used to play when he was little, and I feel tears sting in my eyes. What if he’s gone somewhere I can’t find him? What if he doesn’t show up at court on Monday?
Finally, Rafael pulls over near the skate park, killing the engine. “Let’s check here.”
We get out of the car, the evening air cool against my skin, and start walking. Darkness feels like it’s closing in around us, but I push forward, scanning every shadow, every bench, every tree, hoping, praying that he’s here.
Rafael stays close, but as we search the empty park, my heart sinks deeper.
Then the phone’s sudden ring cuts through the stillness, jolting me out of my frantic thoughts. I fumble for it, my heart racing as I see Jace’s name on the screen.
“Rafael,” I croak. “It’s Jace.”
His eyes are steady on mine, silently urging me to answer.
I swipe to accept the call and press the phone to my ear. “Jace? Is he with you? Is Ethan okay?”
There’s a pause on the other end, and I hear a measured breath before a low voice says, “He’s here, yes. He showed up about fifteen minutes ago.”
Relief washes over me, so overwhelming that my knees buckle. I reach out, gripping Rafael’s arm for support as I let out a breath. “Thank God.”
“He’s okay,” Jace says gently. “He’s upset, though. I tried talking to him, but he doesn’t want to say much right now. I told him you’d be worried sick if you didn’t know he was safe, so I called.”
“Thank you. Just tell him I love him, okay? That we’ll figure this out, no matter what happens. Please, Jace, just make sure he knows that.”
“I will.”
“Sorry we couldn’t meet under more pleasant circumstances.”
After a quick goodbye, the call disconnects.
Rafael’s arms wrap around me, and it’s a balm to the raw edges of my soul. I cling to him, letting out a shuddering breath. For a moment, it feels like everything might be okay, like we might find a way through this storm together.
When he lets me go, I sit on a nearby bench, the air refreshing against my tear-streaked face. My body is heavy, the adrenaline of the day wearing off all at once as I glance up at Rafael, leaning against a tree with his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
“We should head home,” I say. I get up and walk, but as I glance back, I realize Rafael hasn’t moved. He’s still standing by the tree, looking away.
I step back to him, my heart fluttering wildly, as though it might burst. “Is everything okay?”
He turns to face me. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Everything’s fine.”
“Are you sure? You’re not—”
“I’m fine,” he interrupts gently. He takes my hand in his. “Let’s go home.”
“Rafael, wait…”
“You think I don’t know what happens when we get home, Scarlett?
” he asks. Though his gaze radiates anger, his voice is soft.
“I’m not an idiot. I know these are the last moments, the last…
” He buries his face in his open hands. “I wish I’d known this morning.
I would have kissed you one more time. I would have kept you in bed longer, and hugged you for one more fucking minute, and… ”
“Rafael, no. I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” He laughs, but it’s devoid of humor. “Ethan needs you, and you need him. And I won’t be the reason you don’t get custody.”
“So you’re dumping me?” I ask. I can’t feel the wind blowing around us, though the branches of the nearby trees wiggle enough for me to know I should; it’s like I’m having an out-of-body experience. Like I’ve turned into a marionette, moved around by strings I don’t control.
He scoffs. “N—” After closing his mouth, he mutters, “I can do it for you if you need me to.”
“No. No, we’re not breaking up.” A sob rolls through my chest. “We’re not even together yet. We’re not breaking up.” He stares at me, brows knitted together, as I panic. “We’re not. Rafael, we’re—”
“Okay, okay.” He clears his voice, attempting a smile. “You’re right. We’re not.”
He holds his hand out and, reluctantly taking it, I follow him to the car.
Are we breaking up? That’s what Steve meant when he said I’d have to choose, right?
The drive home is silent, and as the streets blur by, I know that this can’t be the end, because if it is, any chance at love dies with our sort-of relationship tonight, and I’m done.
We make it back to my place, the same unnatural quiet between us as we sit on the couch.
“I need you both,” I mumble, voicing the thought that has been buzzing in my mind since the park.
I need Ethan. He’s my brother, the only family I have left. And I need Rafael, too—breakfast in bed, annotated books, waking up to his face. The way my brother opens up when he’s around, and every single meal he’s let me read through.
I’d miss all of it so much, it feels like I can’t possibly picture it right now.
Like this is the kind of loss I’d only feel as it happened, as his presence became a memory instead of a routine.
As I watched him come and go, knowing I no longer had the right to know where.
As he moved on without me, and I without him.
It’s a grief I can only imagine right now but that I’d feel every day.
“I know,” he says, his hand squeezing mine. “But I don’t think who you need is what’ll tip the scale.”
I still, letting his words sink in. The second my shoulders shake, he wraps his arms around me.
He’s right. It’s not about who I need the most but about who needs me. And that is, without a doubt, Ethan.
The second I start sobbing, he shifts closer, pulling me tighter into his chest like he can hold the pieces together if he just squeezes hard enough. My fingers clutch his shirt. I want to crawl into his chest and stay there, safe and selfish. I want it all to stop hurting.
I cry into the hollow of his throat as he cups the back of my head, fingers sifting through my hair with such care it only makes me cry harder.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re going to be okay.”
No, I won’t. I’ll never be okay.
He tilts my face up, gently, reverently.
His thumb wipes beneath my eye, then again, slower.
His gaze drags over every tear before he kisses my cheek, just next to the corner of my mouth.
Then a little higher, catching a tear with his lips like it’s something sacred.
And again, slower this time, lingering by my temple, his breath warm and trembling.
My hand finds his jaw, and I tilt forward just enough that our lips brush together.
When he responds, it’s with a kind of aching restraint, like he’s kissing someone he knows he might have to say goodbye to. Like he wants to memorize it. Every angle, every breath.
I sigh into his mouth, and his arms wrap around me fully, his hand cradling my jaw as the kiss deepens. We shift together until I’m straddling him, knees bracketing his hips, the warmth of his chest meeting mine.
“Rafael,” I breathe out. He withdraws a little to meet my gaze, his eyes dark and wild. “Please.”
“Yes,” he says as he kisses me again, slower this time, savoring. “Everything you want, Freckles.”