AIDAN
The bloody storm that’s Emily rolled in out of nowhere, and I wasn’t prepared. Almost five years without one fucking word and she thinks she can just waltz back into our lives and turn everything upside down.
Does she even think about what it’s been like for Isla? Does she know the weight of raising a child alone, day in and day out?
Anger coils tightly in my chest, my hands clenching into fists. I’m so damn furious. Why now? Why after all this time? I’ve fought tooth and nail to give Isla a normal, stable life, and now this…thisbullshit. I won’t let her come in and wreck all that. Not after everything I’ve done to shield my daughter from this kind of heartache.
She’s not welcome here.
Lucy’s been nothing but a steady rock for both Isla and me, and now I’ve dragged her into this disaster. She’s been thrown right into the thick of it, and I can’t shake this gnawing resentment toward myself for it. I hate that I can’t protect her fromthis and keep her safe from the shitstorm that’s just landed on our doorstep.
She doesn’t deserve any of this. She shouldn’t have to deal with the uncertainty, the tension, or the worry about Isla’s mother popping up like the ghost from the past that she is. I feel like I’ve let her down. She should have been kept out of this drama.
The fire inside me flares hotter, morphing into rage. Emily has no idea what she’s up against. I refuse to let anyone—especially her—rip us apart.
Lucy deserves better. Isla deserves better. I’ll be damned if I let that woman ruin it all.
I’ll handle Emily when I’m ready, but right now, I’ve got more important things to focus on. Isla’s waiting for me to tuck her in. She’s what really matters. I hang back for a moment, just watching her, letting the sight of her calm me.
When I step closer to the bed, my heart softens at the sight of her fighting off sleep, determined to stay awake just a bit longer.
“Hey.” I lean down to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. “How’s my girl doing?”
Her words are wrapped in sleep, but there’s still that sweet smile on her face. “I’m good. Are you mad?”
I cover the storm brewing inside me with a soft smile, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “No, love, not at all. I’m just…figuring some things out, okay? Nothing for you to worry about.”
She nods, her eyes fluttering shut, trusting me to make everything right. That’s the part that cuts the deepest—her faith in me. She has no idea what’s going on, and I want to keep it that way for as long as I can.
The house is too still as I make my way down the hall after saying goodnight to Isla. Every footstep seems to echo louderthan it should. I pause outside my bedroom door, taking a long breath before pushing it open.
Lucy’s lying on her side, her body curled into the blankets, her hair spilling across the pillow in soft waves. She looks peaceful. Beautiful.
It’s hard to reconcile the image in front of me with the emotions she’s probably wrestling with. I want nothing more than to protect her from the turmoil swirling around us.
I move toward the bed slowly, trying not to make a sound. As I sit on the edge, the bed creaks slightly under my weight and she stirs, her eyes fluttering open. I freeze, half expecting her to pull away, but instead, she looks up at me, her expression soft and unguarded.
“Hey,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She blinks a few times, still groggy, but a small, reassuring smile creeps onto her face. “It’s okay.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“A lot better, actually.” She takes a second before sitting up a bit straighter. “I’m sorry, Aidan. I didn’t mean to react like that earlier. I don’t know what happened.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. That was a lot, and it isn’t your mess to deal with.”
She reaches out, her hand resting lightly on my arm. “Just remember, you have people who care about you. Who want to support you.”
I let out a long breath, some of the tension easing from my shoulders at her touch and her words. She has this uncanny ability to make the weight on my shoulders feel a little lighter, a little more bearable. “I’m starting to see that.”
She beams at that, a real smile that lights up her eyes and makes them sparkle in the dim light of the bedroom. “Good.”
I sigh, pulling back slightly. “I don’t know what she wants.”
Her hand slides down my arm to grasp my hand, her fingers intertwining with mine. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
I stare at our joined hands, marveling at how her smaller one fits so perfectly in my larger, rougher one. It’s a strange sensation, feeling her touch cut through the chaos. How is it possible that something so simple can soothe the raging storm inside me?
