“Evening,” Joey’s familiar voice filled the room.

Aoife instinctively lifted her head, spotting him standing in the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his oil-stained overalls.

“Evening.”

“Lynch.”

“Hi, Joe.”

She noticed how he ignored the rest of the group, crossing the kitchen and living room without hesitation, heading straight for her. She was sitting on the rug, carefully folding their son’s tiny clothes. A smile tugged at her lips before she could stop it.

“Hey, stud,” she said, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Queen.” He crouched down, gently tipping her chin up before pressing a brief kiss to her lips. “You good?”

“All good, Joe.” She caught his face between her fingers, her thumb tracing a light circle over his skin. To anyone else, it might have seemed like a loving gesture, but he knew what it really was.

She was checking.

“Are you sober?”

“All good, Aoife Molloy,” he quietly assured her with a wink before pulling something from his pocket and tossing it onto her lap. Rolos. A small gift, but one that made a genuine smile spread across her face.

As he walked to the sink to wash up, the conversation continued in the background. It was Shannon who mentioned Darren, and the moment his name left her lips, Aoife felt the shift in Joey’s body.

He turned off the tap slowly and reached for the towel hanging on the cupboard door.

“Did he come over here?” The question wasn’t directed at anyone else but her. His stare burned into her, heavy with unspoken meaning.

“Joe…” Aoife sighed, already anticipating his reaction. “Don’t get mad—”

“Did he come over here?” he repeated, each word carefully enunciated.

She held his gaze, answering honestly. “He asked if he could see Aj.”

“And you said?”

“That I needed to talk to you first.”

His fingers tightened around the towel for a brief moment before releasing it. “And did he say anything to you?”

“Relax, Joe, he was perfectly polite.”

But she knew that no matter how calm she tried to be—Joey wasn’t going to let this go easily.