The hallway was dimly lit, late evening shadows crawling across the walls of the Kavanagh home like they belonged there. Dinner had long passed, dishes cleaned, little brothers: Tadhg, Ollie and Sean tucked in, and the house had fallen into the kind of silence that usually brought you comfort. But not tonight.

Johnny’s laughter drifted down from the sitting room, low and unguarded. You paused at the edge of the staircase, heart thudding far too hard in your chest. He was sprawled across the couch, Shannon curled up beside him, her smile soft, her head resting on his shoulder. He looked at her the way boys in fairytales looked at the girl they’d die for. He looked at her like she was his world.

That was the way you wished someone would look at you.

The ache started low in your ribs, that familiar, dull squeeze that made you want to cry and scream and disappear all at once. You turned away before he saw you watching, before your heart could hum louder in your chest. You escaped into the guest room, the one that had become yours after the fire. The walls still smelled like lavender and lemon polish, and there was a photo of Shannon and Johnny on the dresser. You hated how often you caught yourself staring at it.

There were no excuses for the way your heart betrayed you. No reasoning for why you noticed everything about him. The way he always set aside the crusts for Ollie, how he never forgot to text Joey before a match, how he quietly offered to walk you home from school on the days when the panic pressed hard against your chest. He had never once made you feel small. And maybe that was why you fell.

You were fourteen. Broken. Grieving. And he was safety, all golden skin and strong arms and gentle words.

But he was hers.

You sat on the edge of the bed, eyes burning. Guilt sank like stone in your stomach. You would never act on it. Never say a word. You loved Shannon too much. Loved Johnny too much, in a way that twisted with shame and longing. He wasn’t yours to love. But that didn’t stop your heart from doing it anyway.

Downstairs, laughter rose again—hers, then his.

You closed your eyes and swallowed the ache whole.