Only last year did you and Dylan have the proper wedding you two had saved up all this money for, with you taking on extra shifts at the vets and Dylan... well, he was a famous Irish hurler, so he just did his job.

And now, they sat in Dylans absolutely gigantic house on a rainy evening.

You see, you had children that weren't Dylans as you only met him five years ago, back when they were in their early thirties, and you were freshly divorced.

Now, you had full custody of your three kids, and they lived with you and Dylan, while you also had one baby with Dylan.

Anyway, it was a cosy night in the O'Leary house.

You sent your twin teenagers up to their rooms for the night, their baby already asleep, and your toddler put to bed also.

Leaving the full downstairs to you and Dylan.

You sat in the bigger downstairs sittingroom, the one with the television, and you pulled the brown, furry corner couch up in front of the fire, had a cup of tea and a big blanket along with a hot water bottle.

"Hello." A low voice rumbled from the doorway of the sitting room as Dylan quietly shut the door, steeping in, in his grey sweatpants and a simple hoodie as he walked behind the corner couch to sit on it, pressing a kiss to your head as he passed behind you.