Auden didn't go home that night. 

But Cillian hadn't wanted her to. In fact, he had needed her to stay. 

Even before she had shown up, soaked and furious, heartbroken and stunning in the worst possible way, he had been stewing. He hated that he wasn't at her gallery opening. Hated that he knew she'd arrive with Patrick, letting that bastard put his hands on her in a way Cillian never could. 

But he had made a promise to himself. 

No more lashing out. No more self-sabotage. He had fucked up too many times already. He was hanging onto his last chances with Auden by a thread, and he had planned to be the better man that night. To support her, even from afar. 

Then, Jenni called. 

Cillian had known — before even picking up — that any chance of going to the gallery was over. He had been halfway through a cold beer, shucking on a nice button up shirt, when his phone vibrated on the kitchen counter. He didn't need to look at the screen to know who it was. 

His jaw clenched. As always, he considered ignoring it, but experience told him she would only call again. And again.  So, with a slow, measured breath, he picked up. 

"What?" he answered.

Her voice, cool and clipped, filled his ear. "Nice to hear from you too, Cill." 

Cillian exhaled through his nose. "What do you want, Jenni?" 

"Well," she said, mockingly thoughtful. "Since you've been avoiding my calls all week, I figured I'd try again." 

He rolled his eyes. "I've been busy." 

"You're always busy," she shot back, exasperated. "But fine, I'll make it quick. I need you to take Charlie tonight." 

Cillian closed his eyes, realization setting in. He began to undress.

"It's late for you to be dropping him off.," he commented, though he knew this wasn't going to go his way. He wanted to fight anyway,  "What's going on?" 

Jenni let out a sigh. "I have plans." 

Something in her tone — light, smug — made the muscles in his shoulders go taut. Even Jenni knew that Cillian's attempt at sounding unaware was ridiculous.

"I'm going to the gallery opening," she continued breezily. "Patrick invited me." 

His eyes opened, his gaze finding a bare spot on his bedroom wall. Cillian's grip tightened around his phone, knuckles turning white. Of course, Patrick had invited her. Of fucking course. 

His voice came out colder than intended. "Why the hell would you go to that?" 

Jenni laughed softly, like she enjoyed his reaction. "Because Patrick asked me to support him. Plus, it only makes sense. I need to show I am still supportive of Charles." 

"Right, I forgot you were the pinnacle of dedication," Cillian bristled. "Because fucking someone behind my back was such a show of loyalty." 

Jenni grew quiet on the other line, the only sound coming from the soft hum of the television on her end. She must've been in the living room of their old house. "When are you going to let that go?" 

"I don't think that's a fair question."  He let out a humorless laugh, his stomach twisting in nausea at the memory of her and Patrick. It was like a bad dream he would never be able to escape.

"Fine," she said, suddenly more impatient. "Are you getting Charlie or not? I need to leave soon." 

Cillian shut his eyes for a brief second, willing the anger clawing up his throat to stay buried. None of this was about Charlie. This was about her and Patrick parading around together in front of Auden. And that's what made his blood fucking boil. 

He had already known Auden would show up with Patrick. Had already resigned himself to it. He had been prepared to stomach it for her sake. But this? Jenni walking into the gallery, knowing exactly what she was doing? It felt like a goddamn setup. She was baiting her. 

And worse? He felt like he couldn't do anything about it without it blowing up in his face. 

Cillian sat down on the edge of his mattress. When he spoke, his voice was flat. "Fine. Bring Charlie over." 

A victorious pause. "See? That wasn't so hard." 

Cillian said nothing. 

Jenni let the silence stretch for a moment, then — a final jab, precise and cutting: 

"You might want to warn your little girlfriend, Cill. Patrick's good at keeping secrets." 

The line went dead. 

Cillian set his phone on his side table with enough force to rattle the entire thing. His stomach churned as he stared down at his palms, the weight of the night settling in his chest like a stone. He had been prepared to watch Patrick steal another thing from him. But now he wasn't so sure he could stomach it.

And he had been right. 

He had considered warning Auden, but in the end, what would have been the point? She hadn't known. Hadn't realized that Patrick had been the one to tear his marriage apart. Besides, this was her night. It was her job; her career. He wanted her to enjoy it.

Not to mention, he had been too much of a coward to tell her earlier. It opened up too many questions that he couldn't answer – not without revealing the fact that all he was trying to do was see her again. That it felt better to have an excuse than none at all.

So he had kept his mouth shut, endured watching Patrick weave himself into her life like a goddamn parasite, knowing it would only be a matter of time before she found out on her own. And when she did — when she showed up at his door, soaked through, mascara smudged, fury and devastation burning in her green eyes — he knew that was it. 

And despite it all, despite the betrayal, the hurt, the chaos of it all — she still wanted him. 

"I need you, Cillian." 

Those words had nearly brought him to his knees. He had spent so long aching for her. For this. For a single moment where she admitted she felt the same unbearable, all-consuming pull. It had been so long since he had felt needed from anyone.

And when he had kissed her, when she had wrapped herself around him like she had been waiting just as long, it had felt like a goddamn miracle. He had held her, felt the wreckage of his heart slowly beginning to piece itself back together in her arms. 

Charlie's interruption had been inevitable, but Cillian hadn't minded. Because for the first time in so long, he wasn't alone. And neither was she. 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡

The next morning, Auden awoke with Cillian's arms around her.

The sunlight spilled through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the room. She smiled before even opening her eyes, because she could feel his chest rise and fall against her back. He was still there. 

The rhythmic sound of his snores, deep and steady, mingled with the faint hum of Mario Kart music from the living room. She rolled over gently, Cillian stirring briefly. She peered up at him, his features soft in sleep, his dark lashes resting against his cheek. 

Auden let her eyes drift closed again, thinking back to last night. They had gotten close. Too close. But they hadn't crossed that final line. And for that, she was grateful. Not because she didn't want him. God, she wanted him — desperately, painfully. But the timing hadn't been in their favor. She wanted it to mean something.

Cillian let out a sleepy sigh. Her eyes opened to meet his, and she let out a soft giggle. 

"Good morning," she whispered. 

Cillian gave her a lazy smile, his voice rough from sleep. "This has to be a dream." 

Auden smirked. "If it were a dream, I don't think Mario Kart would be involved." 

"You'd be surprised how many of my dreams do involve Mario Kart," he murmured and then, in one smooth movement, he rolled on top of her, resting his elbows on either side of her head as he held his body above hers. She felt caged in, but for once, she didn't mind the sensation. His blue eyes, still heavy with lingering dreams, drank her in. 

"Tell me you're real," he breathed, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face. 

Auden's stomach flipped, her cheeks flushing.  

"I'm real," she whispered. 

There was a beat of nothing – no noise, no movement. Just a quiet stillness that wrapped around them like a heavy blanket. Cillian's gaze wandered down her nose, settling to her lips. And then, slowly, he bent his head down and pressed a gentle kiss on Auden's lips. It was soft. Unhurried. Like he wanted to savor the moment.

As he pulled away, Auden felt weightless. Was he real?

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Dad," Charlie's voice echoed through the wood.  "I'm hungry."

Cillian groaned, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. Auden burst into laughter, her arms wrapping tightly around him. 

"That kid is the biggest cockblock," he muttered against her skin, his hair tickling the crook of her neck.

"But he's so cute," Auden giggled, running a hand through Cillian's messy hair. She enjoyed the way it curled, ever so slightly, at the ends.

"Unfortunately, he knows it," he sighed, before hoisting himself up. He reached over her, picking up his phone and glancing at the time. "I should get up. Jenni is picking him up soon."

Before Auden could protest, Cillian rolled off her, landing on the floor with a thud, the blanket coming with him. Auden, suddenly without the heat of his body, shivered as the duvet fell to a pile on the carpet.

That's when it clicked – Cillian was shirtless. 

And fuck, he looked good. She had always known he was fit, but his tendency to wear loose clothes had hidden so much. His lean frame, the definition in his arms, the way the muscles in his back moved when he reached for a shirt a few feet away — her throat went dry. 

He used one hand to slip the t-shirt on, and when Cillian turned, she snapped her gaze away. 

His lips twitched, clearly amused at catching her. But he said nothing. Instead, Cillian offered her his hand, pulling her up with ease. As her bare feet touched the carpet, he kissed her again, but without the lingering tenderness from before. This kiss was playful, almost teasing. She nearly fell back as he ran his tongue across her bottom lip. Just as Auden was about to let herself fall into the motion, he pulled away.

"I need to feed Charlie," he murmured, still holding her face in his palms. Cillian's cheeks were bright with excitement, "And you should get dressed."

She was wearing his t-shirt and sweats. Auden's eyes flickered to her ruined red dress, crumpled in the corner. The memory of the night before came rushing back. Cillian followed her gaze, his expression softening, and he let her go.

"I'm sorry if your event was ruined last night." 

The words hit harder than they should have. She had been so wrapped up in him — in everything — that she hadn't thought about the gallery. About Brigid. 

Fuck, she thought to herself. I left Brigid there alone.

She turned back to him. "Do you know where I put my clutch? I should probably check my phone."

Cillian frowned. "Living room, I think." 

Auden nodded, but didn't say anything. She hurried out, searching the space. It was nowhere. She then moved to the other parts of Cillian's place — the bathroom, the kitchen, even back in the bedroom. But it was nowhere to be found.  

Did she even bring it? Or had she left it at the gallery? 

"Did you find it?" Cillian asked when she appeared in the kitchen once more. Charlie was now sitting at the round table that sat in the middle of the room, eating toast and oatmeal. Cillian was leaning against his countertop, sipping on a cup of tea.

Panic clawed at her chest as Cillian handed her a mug. Her purse had everything – her phone, her credit card, cash. Even keys to her own apartment.

"No, I have no idea where it could be," Auden sighed, sipping out of the mug, but instantly regretting it as she tasted the herbally notes of tea across her taste buds. Her nose scrunched, "Bleh."

Cillian smiled at her disgusted face, "Sorry, I don't have coffee. But I do have cream and sugar," he offered.

"I'll take anything," Auden replied as he handed her a small bowl of sugar cubes. As Auden began plopping them into her mug, there was a knock at Cillian's front door. Auden glanced at Cillian as he checked his phone, finding his face fixing in irritation.

His jaw tightened, "You're mother's here, Charlie."

Auden stood frozen just inside the kitchen, her fingers curled tightly around her mug of tea. She had known, the second the knock came at the door, that it was Jenni. Still, the idea of seeing her again, in the flesh, at the home of her ex-husband's was something else entirely. 

Charlie bolted to his room, his feet practically skipping in excitement. Cillian watched him go, sadness falling behind his eyes. It made her heart clench. With one hand, Auden reached over and took his.

Cillian flicked his eyes to her, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.

Jenni knocked at the door again, this time with more urgency. Cillian exhaled loudly, irritation quickly replacing his melancholic look. Without a word to Auden, he let go of her hand and left the room.

She tried not to let it bother her. Instead,  Auden slowly made her way to the edge of the doorway to the kitchen, peering behind the wall to give her a clear view of Cillian's front door.

Jenni radiated confidence, poised in her crisp white blouse and fitted black trousers, red heels clicking against the hardwood as she stepped inside. Her long dark hair was slicked back into a sleek ponytail, not a strand out of place. Auden couldn't help but feel messy in comparison with her bed-tangled hair and Cillian's oversized clothes hanging loosely on her frame. 

But that wasn't the most unnerving thing about Jenni. It was the fact that she was stunningly, viciously unreadable.

Her expression barely changed as her son appeared in the foyer. She scooped Charlie up into her arms, hugging him tight, her lips pressing against his dark curls. A perfect picture of motherly affection. 

And then, as if she had all the time in the world, she turned to Cillian. 

"How was your night?" she asked, her voice as smooth as glass. 

Cillian stood stiffly by the door, arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched. "It was fine." 

Jenni smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "Patrick says hello." 

Auden watched as Cillian's whole body went rigid. His shoulders tensed, his hands flexed at his sides, his expression flickering for just a second before he schooled it into something cold and unreadable. 

He exhaled slowly, controlling himself. "Glad you two had a good time." 

"Oh, it was a lovely time. You would've loved it," Jenni tilted her head, amused by his restraint. "Auden, too, if she hadn't run off the way she did." 

Her dark gaze flickered to Auden, lingering just long enough for the implication to settle in. 

Auden felt heat creep up her neck, but she didn't shrink away. Instead, she straightened her spine, holding Jenni's stare with something just as sharp as she stepped fully into view.

Cillian, however, had reached his limit. 

"You came all the way here just to stir shit up?" he snapped, voice low and dangerous. 

Jenni sighed, rolling her eyes as she set Charlie down. "No, Cillian. I came here for our son — who, by the way, should not be waking up in your house with strange women in your bed." 

Cillian took a sharp step forward, his voice turning venomous. "Watch it, Jenni." 

Jenni didn't so much as blink. She wanted this fight. 

"Oh, come on," she scoffed. "You didn't think I'd hear about it? Everyone at the gallery saw her storm out after Patrick and I had a chat. You really have a way of making an exit, Auden." 

Auden's hands tightened into fists at her sides. "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed the show," she said, voice calm but iced through. 

Jenni let out a short laugh, before her face brightened, as if she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, Patrick wanted me to give this to you." 

Auden watched as Jenni reached into her tote, pulling out her clutch from the night before. The woman held it out to her, "He said he would have returned it himself, but I told him not to bother with something so trivial."

That hit its mark. Auden felt the sting of it. The way Jenni barely saw her as a real threat, a real presence. Silently, she crossed the space, stopping next to Cillian as she retrieved her purse from Jenni.

Cillian took a deep breath before attempting to shift the conversation away from Auden, "When can I see Charlie next?"

Jenni narrowed her eyes, clearly upset that no one took the bait. "Depends. I don't know if I'm comfortable with the idea of my son being subjected to his father's sexual adventures."

Auden stole a glance at Charlie — he was cowering in the corner of the doorway, bookbag in hand, his eyes darting between his mother and father in confusion. They spoke about Charlie as if he weren't even there.

"Maybe –" Auden tried but Cillian interjected, his voice tight as he attempted to control his frustration.

"Ah, but yours is okay," Cillian shook his head in disbelief, "I've asked you on multiple occasions to keep Patrick away from Charlie. And yet, he's telling me about how Patrick makes him breakfast in the morning."

"You're not fooling anyone, Cillian," Jenni crossed her arms, her red lips pressing into a tight line, "You're just trying to get back at me. Admit it."

Auden caught Charlie shrink back, just slightly. It was enough to spur a feeling of annoyance towards both Jenni and Cillian. Charlie had no business being subjected to this petty back and forth.

As Auden opened her mouth to interrupt once again, Charlie beat her to the punch. "Mum?" 

His parents stilled, both of their attentions turning to the son that they forgot was there.

Jenni's expression softened in an instant. A perfect shift. "Yes, sweetheart?" 

Charlie glanced between his mother and father, his small face scrunched in confusion. "Are you and Dad fighting?" 

Jenni blinked, as if the question had never occurred to her. "No, baby, of course not." 

Charlie's brows furrowed further. "Then why do you sound mad?" 

There was a beat of silence. Auden watched as Jenni hesitated — just for a second. Cillian, however, didn't hesitate at all. 

"We're not mad, bud," he said, his voice gentler now. "Just talking." 

Auden could see Charlie wasn't convinced. He wasn't a stupid kid. He knew. And suddenly, a painful realization hit her. 

Is this what my childhood would have been like, if my mother had been around? 

She had never known what it was like to watch her parents fight, to feel caught between two people who could barely stand the sight of each other anymore. Her father had been cold, yes — distant, emotionally detached, but never cruel. But this? This was something else. Cillian and Jenni weren't just arguing. They were armed with knives sharpened by years of resentment. They knew exactly where to cut each other, exactly which wounds would bleed the most. 

And Charlie had no choice but to stand in the crossfire. 

Auden's heart ached for him. For the fact that he had to grow up in this kind of quiet, lingering tension, feeling the weight of unspoken fights and years of bad history pressing down on him. 

She moved instinctively, stepping toward him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

He glanced up at her, and she offered a small smile. 

"Hey," she said softly. "Do you wanna show me your favorite Mario Kart character?" 

Charlie hesitated, looking up at his mom just briefly before returning to Auden. She made her smile wider, more welcoming, and Charlie nodded. "Yeah. I like Yoshi." 

"Good choice," Auden said as she held out her hand. Charlie took it, his palm oddly sweaty in hers. Gently, she steered him toward the living room. "Yoshi's the best." 

As she guided Charlie away, she heard Cillian's voice lower into something more serious. 

"Jenni, I mean it — this shit needs to stop. We can't keep doing this in front of Charlie." 

Jenni's voice came softer, but still razor-sharp. "Then stop making it so damn easy." 

Auden didn't look back. She just held Charlie's small hand in hers, knowing deep down that no matter what she did, she couldn't shield him from the inevitable. But God damn it, she would try.

Auden settled onto the couch beside Charlie, picking up a controller as he clicked through the character selection screen. She tried to pretend that everything was fine, even as Cillian and Jenni's voices rose and fell from the front door. But Auden couldn't totally ignore that something felt off. 

Charlie's usual enthusiasm was missing. His little fingers hovered over the buttons, unsure of himself. Normally, he would be bouncing with excitement, already talking trash before the race even started. But tonight, he was quiet, his mind elsewhere.

Auden watched him carefully. "You sure you still wanna play?" 

Charlie nodded, but it wasn't convincing. 

She felt herself hesitate before saying, "You know, you can talk to me about it." 

Charlie didn't look at her. His eyes stayed glued to the screen, his small shoulders tense. Then, so quietly she almost missed it, he mumbled, "They fight all the time." 

Auden's heart tightened. She set her controller down, turning to face him fully. "Your mom and dad?" 

Charlie nodded, dropping his head in defeat. Auden chewed on her lip. She had assumed as much, but hearing it from him — hearing the sadness in his tiny voice — made it real. 

"They weren't always mean to each other," Charlie said, his brows furrowing. "They used to laugh more. Like me and my friends do." 

Auden swallowed hard. What was she supposed to say to that? 

"I hate when they yell," Charlie admitted, "I know they try not to do it, but..." 

He trailed off, his tiny hands gripping the controller a little too tightly. Without thinking, she reached over, rubbing slow circles into his back. 

"I know it's hard," she murmured. "But none of this is your fault, okay?" 

Charlie's lips pressed together, like he wasn't sure he believed her. 

"They love you, Charlie. No matter what." 

He stayed silent, but some of the tension in his little shoulders eased. The game music continued to play in the background, but neither of them paid attention to it. Then, Charlie glanced up at her, his blue eyes searching hers. 

"Do you think they'll ever stop fighting?" 

Auden's throat tightened. She wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell him that things would magically get better, but the innocence in his face made it so hard to lie to him. 

So instead, she said softly, "I think they're trying. Even if it doesn't always seem like it." 

Charlie nodded, but the sadness in his eyes didn't disappear. 

Auden ruffled his hair, forcing a light tone. "Come on, let's do one race. I'll even let you win." 

Charlie's mouth curved into the faintest hint of a smile. "You always say that. And then I win anyway." 

Auden laughed, nudging his arm. "Yeah, yeah. Start the game, kid." 

And for a moment, the weight between them lifted — just a little. They played one round, then two, before Jenni and Cillian were able to get themselves together. When Cillian finally came to the living room to grab his son, Auden got to her feet, refusing to make eye contact with him. Charlie trudged over to Cillian, his usual chatter missing. 

Cillian patted his son's head, forcing a tight smile, "Ready to go?"

Charlie nodded before hesitating, and turning around to Auden. They locked eyes for a brief second, before the boy ran back to her. She barely had time to react as Charlie wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"Bye, Auden." Charlie said quietly into her shirt.

She hugged him back, "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Charlie let her go. She gave him one last small smile, but the boy's exhausted face was enough to make anyone crack. Cillian touched his shoulder, guiding him back to the front door despite his clear reluctance.

Auden found herself watching him leave from the window. He climbed into the car, his shoulders hunched, frown set.

When she turned back around, Cillian was re-entering the living room. He exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Fucking hell." 

"Cillian," she said, voice quiet but pointed.

He met her gaze, his expression tight. "I know. I'm sorry."

"This probably isn't my place," she began, taking a slow breath to steady herself, "But you need to be the bigger person." 

His brows furrowed. "What?" 

"With Jenni," Auden clarified. "I can tell she gets under your skin. But Charlie is the one caught in the middle of it." 

Cillian's jaw tightened. "You think I don't know that?" 

"Maybe you do. But today you forgot," Auden countered, crossing her arms. "I get that she makes it hard, but you can't let her bait you. Charlie sees everything. He hears everything." 

Cillian looked away, his fingers flexing at his sides. "Is this conversation really necessary right now?"

Right now? Maybe not. And was Auden overstepping but going through with it anyway? Probably.

But Cillian was stubborn, emotionally closed-off, and so wrapped up in his resentment toward Jenni that he couldn't see how much it was hurting Charlie. She understood why — understood the betrayal, the bitterness, the way old wounds never seemed to close completely.

But Charlie didn't deserve to be collateral damage. He was just a kid, caught between two people who used to love each other and now could barely be in the same room without a fight brewing. Auden had only ever had her father growing up, and while she had learned to live with his distance, she had always wondered what it would have been like to have someone else there, balancing out the cold. Charlie had both parents, but if Cillian and Jenni didn't figure out how to coexist without tearing each other apart, he was going to grow up feeling just as alone as she had.

"You know what he said?" Auden asked, stepping closer. "He told me 'They weren't always like this.' and that 'They used to laugh more.' That's not okay."

Cillian's throat bobbed, his face straining with emotion he didn't want to show; the guilt that gripped him daily. The same guilt that made him break down in front of her so many weeks ago. Auden's couldn't help it — her voice softened. "He just wants to feel safe, Cillian." 

His eyes fell close, raking a hand through his hair. Auden could see it fully now — the guilt pressing down on him. The weight of knowing his son was suffering because of choices he and Jenni had made. 

Finally, he muttered, "I don't know how to fix it." 

She walked over to him, allowing her arms to hook around his waist. His eyes flung open, peering down at her.

"Start by not giving Jenni the reaction she wants," Auden suggested, "Show Charlie that you're stable, even if she isn't." 

The remorse in his eyes subsided a little, his shoulders visibly relaxing. He wasn't fully convinced, but it was a start.

"Yeah," he murmured, nodding. "Yeah, you're right." 

Auden smirked. "I usually am." 

Cillian huffed out a quiet laugh, his free hand reaching up to brush away some blonde hair that had fallen over her face. His thumb lingered on her cheekbone, "Christ, you're a pain in my ass." 

"Yeah, but now I'm your pain in the ass," she teased. 

Cillian's eyes darkened with something unreadable. Auden's stomach flipped violently. But before she could overthink it, she craned her neck up and kissed him. And somehow, just like this morning — it was enough.