The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, painting golden streaks across Cillian's bedroom. The sheets beside Auden were tangled, his warmth still lingering, but he was sound asleep — his bare back rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breath. She hesitated before moving, watching him for a moment, committing the image to memory. Peaceful. Unaware.

Her chest ached at the thought of what she was keeping from him.

Carefully, she slid out of bed, wrapping his robe around herself as she padded across the hardwood floor. The ensuite bathroom was cool, the tile chilling her bare feet as she shut the door behind her. She caught sight of herself in the mirror— cheeks still flushed from sleep, her hair a wild mess from the night before. She looked different here, in his house. Less guarded. Almost as if she belonged.

But the moment her eyes flicked down to the bathroom counter, the illusion cracked.

Her phone sat there, face-down. She had turned off notifications last night, trying to silence the anxious churning in her stomach. But the meeting with Jenni loomed, an inevitability she couldn't ignore.

Auden took a slow, shaky breath, bracing her hands against the cool marble of the sink. She had spent days convincing herself this was the right thing to do. That if she could just get through it, if she could keep Jenni from spreading more poison, it would all be worth it.

And yet, what if Jenni had already told him? What if Cillian woke up today and knew? What if he looked at her and saw guilt written all over her face?

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as if she could physically force the thoughts away. Don't think about it. Just get through today.

The door creaked open behind her.

Auden's stomach twisted, her reflection betraying her before she could even attempt to school her expression.

Cillian stood in the doorway, squinting against the light, his hair sleep-mussed, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. His voice was rough with sleep.

"Why are you up so early?"

Auden forced a smile, turning away from the mirror as she reached for her toothbrush. "Work. Some of us have to be functioning members of society, you know."

Cillian hummed, stepping further into the bathroom, eyes scanning her face like he was searching for something unspoken. "Right. And that's why you're gripping the counter like you're about to pass out?"

Her fingers immediately loosened their hold. "I'm fine."

Cillian wasn't convinced. He moved closer, the warmth of him almost unnerving. "You sure about that?"

Auden turned, brushing past him to grab her makeup bag. "I just didn't sleep well. It's nothing."

His hands found her waist, his grip gentle but firm as he halted her movement. "Auden."

She exhaled slowly, schooling her features before turning to face him. "I promise, I'm fine. It's just a busy day."

His thumb traced the hem of his robe, skimming the skin beneath as he studied her with quiet intensity. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

Auden swallowed. "Of course."

The lie felt heavier than it should have.

Cillian held her gaze for a long moment before nodding, though the tension in his jaw told her he didn't believe her. He let his hands fall away, stepping back as she turned toward the mirror again.

"You staying here tonight?" he asked casually, but she could hear the careful edge to his voice.

Auden hesitated, smoothing foundation over her skin as if she could cover the anxiety threatening to bleed through. She should say yes. She should make it normal.

"I don't know," she said instead, avoiding his reflection as she dabbed concealer across her heavy bags. "I'll text you."

Cillian didn't respond right away. And then, "Alright."

Auden swallowed the guilt rising in her throat, offering him a small smile mirror.

"Go back to sleep," she murmured turning around to press a fleeting kiss to his cheek. "I need to get ready."

She didn't see the way Cillian frowned at her, rubbing at his jaw, a flicker of unease settling deep in his chest as she returned her attention to mirror. After a long moment of silence, he left her.

Instantly, her shoulders relaxed. Auden felt as if she had spent the past few days in a haze of anticipation, the weight of her secret pressing heavier with each passing hour. She wasn't naïve — she knew that keeping this meeting from Cillian was a betrayal of sorts. But the alternative?

Letting him in on it and having him insist on being there, or worse, trying to stop it altogether? That would only escalate things, give Jenni more ammunition to use against them.

So Auden said nothing.

And every day that passed without Cillian mentioning it, without him giving any indication that he knew, only added to her anxiety. Was he just waiting for her to confess? Or had Jenni, by some miracle, kept quiet?

Either way, today was the day. And Auden was done second-guessing herself.

When Auden opened the door to her office, the smell of evergreen trees smacked her in the face. Brigid was in the process of decorating her office for the holidays. There was an undecorated tree in the corner, along with some scented candles lit up on her desk, causing the overwhelming smell.

"What's this?" Auden asked loudly.

Brigid barely had time to react, perched precariously on her desk chair, nearly losing her balance stringing holiday lights across the window. The string lights slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor as she yelped.

"What the fuck, Auden?" Brigid shot her a glare as she steadied herself.

Auden crossed her arms, raising an unimpressed brow.

"What are you doing?"

Brigid huffed, stepping off the chair and retrieving the fallen lights. "Decorating, obviously. I told you last week I was gonna make your office festive."

Auden exhaled through her nose, feeling the tension coiled in her chest tighten. "As fun as that sounds," she said, forcing a smirk, "I have a meeting I need to mentally prep for."

Brigid gave her a pointed look. "And as the designated office assistant, shouldn't I already know about this meeting?"

Auden sighed, placing her bag on the floor of her office. "And as my best friend, shouldn't you already know when not to push me?"

Brigid snorted, flipping her red hair over her shoulder. "That was dramatic. Who's the meeting with?"

Auden hesitated, which only perked her friend's attention. Brigid's eyes narrowed. "Wait a second —"

"Not now, Brigid," Auden cut her off, crossing the room in an effort to usher her toward the door. "I need a few minutes to myself."

Brigid allowed herself to be herded out, but not without a lingering glance of suspicion. "You're acting shady," she muttered before disappearing down the hall.

Auden locked the door behind her, exhaling sharply.
She walked to the window, cracking it open just enough to let the frigid Dublin air cut through the suffocating scent of candles and pine. With practiced ease, she pulled a cigarette from her bag, lighting it with steady fingers.

She knew Cillian would hate this. He wanted her to quit. And for the most part, she had been smoking less. But right now, she needed it.

As she inhaled, the nicotine buzz settled her nerves, if only temporarily. Jenni would be here any minute.

Auden flicked the cigarette out the window, taking one last breath before straightening her spine. She caught her reflection in the windowpane — her hair slightly windswept, her expression carefully neutral. It would have to do.

She wouldn't give Jenni the satisfaction of seeing her shaken.

She felt herself yawn. Coffee, Auden thought to herself, coffee would help. In one swift movement, Auden slammed her window, before leaving the room entirely.

Jenni was already in her office when Auden returned with a mug in hand, steam rising high into the heavy scent of Christmas.

She sat gracefully on the couch, one long leg crossed over the other, the signature red sole of her Louboutins flashing with every slight movement. A white pantsuit hugged her frame, the crispness of the fabric a stark contrast to her ink-black hair, which fell in glossy waves over her shoulder.

The picture of effortless confidence.

Auden shut the door behind her with a quiet click. Jenni's head lifted, her red lips curving into a slow smile.

"Auden," she said smoothly, rising to her feet. "I was beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Auden ignored the extended handshake, moving toward her desk instead. "I don't make a habit of running from things."

Jenni let her hand fall, unfazed. "No, I don't suppose you do."

Auden lowered herself into her chair, setting her coffee on the desk. "So, let's not waste time. Why are you here?"

Jenni exhaled a quiet laugh, settling back onto the couch. "Right to business, then?"

Auden leveled her with a stare. "We both know this isn't business."

Jenni tilted her head, studying her. "I suppose not." She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her sleeve before finally meeting Auden's gaze head-on. "I want to know why you're with Cillian."

Auden didn't blink. "That's not your concern."

Jenni's smile didn't falter, but there was an unmistakable tension in her jaw. "It is my concern," she countered, voice deceptively light. "I'm his wife—"

"Legally, sure." Auden's voice was cool. "But not where it matters."

Jenni's fingers twitched against the fabric of her pants.
Auden leaned back in her chair, forcing herself to appear relaxed. "If you're here to tell me that this thing between Cillian and me is just some reckless relationship, don't bother. I've heard it all already."

Auden brought her coffee to her lips, blowing gently on the rich, dark liquid before adding, "But I'm sure you knew that already."

Jenni let out a quiet scoff. "You really think you matter to him?"

Auden didn't rise to the bait.

But Jenni wasn't done trying. She leaned forward, her tone turning sharp. "Men like him — men who have been married, who have families — don't fall in love with women like you. They use you."

Auden felt her jaw clench as she swallowed coffee harshly. She set down the mug a little too hard, the pencil holder on her desk rattling.

Jenni's eyes gleamed, sensing the crack in her composure. "Cillian is comfortable with me," she continued. "I know his world, his past, his demons. And once he gets bored of playing house with you, he'll come back. The always comes back."

Auden's nails dug into her palms. "They? Are you saying that from experience?"

Jenni smirked, ignoring her comment. "And when Cill does, what will you be left with? A broken heart and nothing to show for it."

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Auden finally exhaled, slow and deliberate. Then, she leaned forward, mirroring Jenni's posture, setting her elbows on the tabletop.

"You talk a lot about what Cillian always does," she said, her voice steady. "But tell me, Jenni — if you're so sure he'll come back to you, why are you sitting in my office, trying to convince me of it?"

Jenni's smirk vanished. For the first time since this meeting began, she looked rattled.

Auden let the moment hang before standing. She walked to the door, opening it. "We're done here."

Jenni stood slowly, her mask of indifference slipping back into place.

"You're playing a losing game," she murmured. "You just don't see it yet."

Auden met her gaze, unwavering. "We'll see about that."

Auden kept her expression neutral as Jenni's gaze lingered on her. The conversation had already begun unraveling into thinly veiled insults and cheap shots, and she was growing tired of it.

But just as Auden expected Jenni to leave, the woman let out a slow, measured sigh.

"You know," Jenni said, her voice softer now, more contemplative. She crossed her arms, "I never wanted this for him."

Auden arched a brow. "Cillian?"

"No, Charlie," Jenni said, before gesturing around the room vaguely. "The chaos. The media circus. Having to fight for time with his own son because he let himself get distracted by... this affair."

Auden's jaw tightened, "I am not sure I would call it an affair."

Jenni took her response as an opening, craning her head forward, her hands falling and clasping neatly in front of her.

"Charlie still asks about him, you know. Every night before bed. 'When is Daddy coming home?' And what am I supposed to say? That he's off playing house with a woman who doesn't have to worry about bedtime stories and school runs?"

A flicker of guilt twisted in Auden's stomach as the thought of Charlie, sad and asking for his father. She knew the feeling too well.

Jenni sighed again, shaking her head. "Cillian loves Charlie. You must see that. And he's already lost so much time with him— our son —because of all of this. Because of you."

Auden's fingers twitched at her side. She had never doubted Cillian's love for Charlie. If anything, his devotion to his son was part of why she'd fallen for him in the first place. He spoke about Charlie with such tenderness, such pride. And she knew — God, she knew — that being separated from him was killing Cillian.

Jenni watched her carefully, gauging her reaction. And for a moment, just a moment, Auden felt herself waver.

What if she was the problem? What if she was the reason Cillian couldn't be with his son the way he wanted?
Wouldn't it be easier — for everyone — if she just stepped aside?

Jenni must have sensed the shift because her lips curled into something almost sympathetic. "You're young, Auden. You have your whole life ahead of you. Do you really want to be the reason a little boy grows up resenting his father?"

Auden swallowed, her heart was pounding. But then, she thought about the day when Cillian and Jenni fought openly, in front of him, as if Charlie had never existed. That would be his everyday if Auden stepped aside — not the loving, wholesome family Jenni was making it seem.

And, as if Jenni could read her thoughts, Auden caught it. That flicker in Jenni's eyes. The tiniest slip in her composure. She wasn't advocating for Charlie. She was using him.

Auden suddenly felt cold.

Jenni wasn't some desperate mother, fighting to keep her family together for the sake of her child. She was a woman grasping at straws, wielding her son like a pawn to manipulate Auden into leaving Cillian.

Auden exhaled slowly, shaking her head. "You almost had me," she murmured.

Jenni blinked, feigning innocence. "What?"

Auden scoffed. "You almost had me," she repeated, her voice sharper now. "That was a good performance, Jenni. Really. I nearly believed you cared more about Charlie than you do about winning."

Jenni's mouth parted slightly before snapping shut.

Auden tilted her head. "Let's be honest. This isn't about Cillian being a father. It's not about what's best for Charlie. This is about you not being able to handle the fact that Cillian is choosing to be with me."

Jenni's fingers pressed tighter together. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?" Auden asked, folding her arms. "If you actually wanted Cillian to be a present father, you wouldn't be trying to turn Charlie into a weapon. You'd be trying to work with him. Instead, you're sitting here, in my office, attempting to manipulate me into walking away."

Jenni's nostrils flared.

Auden let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "I mean, really? You expect me to believe that you want what's best for Charlie when you're actively making it harder for his father to be a part of his life?" She shrugged. "If you weren't so hellbent on control, maybe you'd see that Charlie doesn't have to lose his dad just because his parents aren't together anymore."

She had her trapped. Jenni's composure cracked. Her jaw clenched, her polished exterior flickering with barely restrained rage.

"You're a bitch," she seethed, stamping her foot so abruptly that her heels clicked sharply against the floor.

Auden didn't flinch. The older woman took a slow, steady breath, smoothing down the front of her blazer as she regained her mask of civility. But her eyes — dark, cold —betrayed her.

"You have no idea what you're dealing with," she said quietly. "You think you know him, but you don't. Not really."

All Auden could do was stared at her. And then, with a quiet sigh, she gestured to the door once again.

"Like I said," Auden murmured, "We're done here."

Jenni lingered for a moment longer, as if waiting for Auden to break. But when she didn't, she scoffed under her breath and strode past her — not before pausing in the doorway, throwing one final parting shot over her shoulder.

"You'll regret this."

Auden felt nothing towards this threat as Jenni left. No anger, no sadness— just exhaustion. And maybe, just maybe, a flicker of doubt

But that doubt was enough to spur something else in her. She grabbed her coat, striding toward Brigid's desk.

"I'm leaving," she said briskly. "Tell Charles whatever you want."

Brigid opened her mouth, but Auden was out of earshot before she could respond.

Her pulse was pounding, but her mind was clear. Jenni had tried to break her. To manipulate her. And she had failed. But that nagging doubt — the one Jenni had planted — still clung to her ribs.

She needed to see Cillian. Not because she was afraid of what Jenni had said. But because she needed to hear it from him. That this was real. That she wasn't just some temporary distraction. That Jenni was wrong.And, more than anything, Auden needed to believe it herself.