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“Yeah,” she says quietly, sounding unconvinced.

“I know you’re not ready, but I don’t want you to wait until you are. You might never be ready, and I don’t want him to take your home from you. That’s your space. You need to claim it back."

“I don’t want Cormac there while I do it.”

She doesn’t want him to see her break down if it happens. Which I have a feeling it might.

“We can have Evan watch him, or if you tell Frankie what’s going on, she can.”

Aisling goes silent again as she thinks over the options.

“Let’s see if Evan will. Tomorrow is already going to be stressful; I don’t want to add to it. Besides, I think Cormac is comfortable here. I don’t want to keep shuffling him around.”

She thinks Cormac is comfortable here.

I’m smiling like a fucking idiot.

“Are you ready to go inside?” I ask Aisling as we stand outside the front of her house on the lawn, staring at the front door.

I wrap my arm around her shoulders, drawing her in tight. She told me she was fine this morning when we were getting ready to head over here, but my baby doll forgets her eyes are an open book.

And I could tell she was scared shitless.

She put on a strong front, though; it didn’t falter when we dropped Cormac off with Evan or when we pulled out of the drive. In fact, she didn’t tense up like this until we pulled into her drive.

She takes a deep breath. “I think so.”

“We can stay out here all day until you’re ready. Cyrus has no problem cleaning up,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Only for baby mama. No one else gets this from me. I hope you fuckers know that,” Cyrus says as he pins us with a look as he walks by with a shop vac.

I chuck the bag of cleaning supplies I have in my hand at his head. It falls short and hits him in the back.

“Hey,” Cyrus whines. “What was that for?”

“What did I tell you about calling her baby mama?”

“It’s fine, babe,” Aisling tries to tell me, but it’s not.

She’s not just my baby mama.

“You’re no fun now that you’re a dad.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’ll still whoop your ass.”

“No more fighting,” Aisling tells us. “I don’t need anything else in my house broken.”

I tense, thinking I’d fucked up and crossed a line, making her feel worse about all of this. I look down at her and see her smirking up at me.

Thank fucking god.

“You sure?” I ask, not wanting to push her to do something she isn’t ready for.

She inhales deeply. “I’m sure. I need to see the damage and figure out what to do next.”

I don’t correct her when she says I.

Little does she know that she isn’t spending another night in this house alone if I can help it.