Chapter 21 Aisling
AISLING
The weekend with Riley feels like a pocket of stolen time, bright and fragile and impossible to hold onto.
She fills the house with her presence in a way no amount of restoration work ever could.
Her laughter ricochets down hallways that once swallowed sound.
Her shoes are kicked off in odd corners.
Evi even taped her drawings to the refrigerator, insisting they belong in a gallery.
And I let myself revel in the two days of joy and laughter.
It feels so right to have Riley here with me, teasing Raf mercilessly, creating endless worlds of imagination in her head.
Sunday afternoon creeps in gently, cruel in its quiet.
The sky outside the tall windows is pale and cloudless, the unusual blue hue for fall making the end of my time with her feel sharper.
Riley sits on the floor of her bedroom beside me, arranging her stuffed animals into a very serious-looking tea party.
“This one’s you,” she says, handing me Mr. Teddy with solemn responsibility. “He’s brave.”
I smile, my chest aching. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“You have to,” she says gravely. “He’s sensitive.”
I laugh, but my eyes burn, and I blink quickly, pressing my lips together. She notices anyway, a tiny frown buckling her brows.
“Sissy, are you sad?” she asks, scooting closer until her knee bumps mine.
“Just a little,” I admit. “I’ve loved having you here. But that’s okay. I know Mamma and Papa will be happy to get you back.”
Riley nods like she understands everything there is to understand about the world.
Then she crawls into my lap and hugs me, her arms tight around my neck. “I’ll come back,” she says. “Promise.”
“I know you will,” I whisper into her hair.
The crunch of tires on gravel outside feels like a countdown reaching zero, and I squeeze her just a bit tighter.
Riley stiffens, then slides off my lap with a dramatic sigh. “Time to go?” she asks, her disappointment plain in her tone.
“I think so.”
I help her gather her things slowly, as if moving carefully enough might delay time itself.
Her overnight bag sits by the door, rabbit tucked safely inside, zipper closed with solemn attention, and I gather it to bring it downstairs with her.
When we step into the foyer, Raf is already there, though he’s supposed to be caught up in meetings for most of the day—despite it being the weekend.
He’s leaning against the wall, arms folded loosely, dressed down in dark jeans and a soft sweater that makes him look disarmingly normal—not a strategist, not a Don.
Right now, he’s just a man waiting to say goodbye to a child he has no known obligation to show any kind of care and affection for, like he has this weekend.
Riley sees him and grins. “Dragon!”
He pushes off the wall, eyes lighting as he gives her a formal bow. “Brave knight.”
She runs to him and wraps her arms around his thighs without hesitation.
He freezes for half a second, surprised, then laughs softly and hugs her back, one large hand resting gently between her shoulder blades.
The tenderness of it hits me square in the chest.
He kneels to her level. “You heading home?”
She nods. “But I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be here,” he says. “We’ll keep the castle safe.”
She considers that, then leans in and whispers something in his ear.
His brows lift, and his mouth curves into a quiet smile as his eyes find mine.
Then they shift quickly back to the little girl before him.
“I promise,” he says solemnly.
She seems satisfied.
When Riley finally lets go of Raf, she turns and hugs me next, fierce and unselfconscious, and I scoop her into my arms to carry her outside.
My parents are waiting by the car, giving us space to say our goodbyes.
“I love you, Sissy,” Riley whispers, her tiny arms tight around my neck.
The words land hard and deep.
“I love you too,” I manage.
Then I’m planting a wet kiss on her cheek before I pass her off to my mom.
Riley waves before she climbs into her car seat.
I wave back, my heart heavy, my throat tight, and I keep waving until the car disappears down the drive.
The silence that follows is deafening.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the empty driveway, my chest hollowing out as the reality of it sinks in.
The house feels too big again, too quiet, and tears come fast and humiliating.
Turning away, I press my hand to my mouth, but it’s no use.
A sob slips free, sharp and raw.
I barely make it two steps inside the front door before I have to stop, one hand braced against the wall.
“Aisling?”
Raf’s voice is close, immediate, and I feel the warmth of his presence as his familiar scent reaches my nose.
It’s treacherously comforting, and my heart flutters despite the heavy weight dragging it down.
“I’m fine,” I say reflexively, scrubbing at my cheeks. “I just need a second.”
Rather than letting me retreat, he steps closer, concern written openly across his face. “What’s wrong?” His voice is uncharacteristically soft, and it opens fissures in my chest.
I shake my head, a broken laugh escaping. “It’s nothing. Really. I’m just… Riley’s one of my favorite people in the world. And it’s hard saying goodbye when I don’t know when I’ll see her again.”
“That’s totally fair,” he says quietly, and the sincerity in his voice cracks something open inside me.
“I miss home,” I admit, sniffling miserably as I try to pull myself together. “I thought I was prepared for this, but… apparently, I wasn’t.”
Raf doesn’t hesitate as he closes the distance between us to pull me into his arms.
The contact is warm and solid and completely unexpected.
His chest is firm beneath my cheek, his arms sure and steady around my back.
I sink into him before I can stop myself, my fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater as I bury my face against him.
“You can have her here whenever you want,” he says softly. “And your family too. All of them.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I mumble, my voice muffled as he holds me close.
I don’t know if I mean that he doesn’t have to comfort me or that he doesn’t have to open up his home to my family, but whatever the case, I’m overwhelmingly grateful all the same.
“I want to,” he replies without pause. “And you can go visit them whenever you’d like—as long as you take a guard. For as long as you’re living here, this is your home. You’re not a prisoner, Aisling.”
Emotion surges so fast, it nearly knocks me over, and I lift my head to look up at him, resting my chin against his sternum, my eyes stinging for a completely different reason now. “Thank you,” I whisper.
A faint smile curves his mouth, drawing my gaze down, and suddenly, I realize how close our faces are.
Close enough that I can see the tiny scar near his jaw, hidden beneath his five-o’clock shadow, the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes when I look back up to find him watching me.
His gaze drops to my mouth, and my breath catches.
The air between us thickens.
Is he going to kiss me?
Does he want to?
Do I want him to?
It hits me like a bolt out of the blue that I do.
I want to feel Raf’s lips on mine, not out of anger, not out of drunken passion or pretending.
I want it because of this moment, because of the way he held Riley, because of the way he’s holding me now.
Somewhere over the course of this weekend, something inside me has shifted, softened, tilted dangerously toward hope, and it makes my chest pound as I wonder if he feels it too—this magnetic pull trying to bring us together despite all the obstacles that stand in our way.
For one suspended heartbeat, I’m sure he’s going to lean in and kiss me.
I scarcely dare to breathe as I wait for it, my skin tingling with anticipation.
Then he clears his throat and takes a step back, releasing me.
The space between us yawns open, sudden and cold, and my heart sinks sharply as the moment fractures, leaving me standing there with the devastating realization that pretending to be with Raf no longer hurts because I can’t stand to be around him.
It hurts because I want it to be real.