It was weird, living in the Kavanaghs’ annex. Weird in a good way. Warm. Safe. Not like anything I’d known before.

I was nineteen, clean for months now—still felt mad to say it out loud—and somehow had a kid who looked at me like I was the best thing that ever happened to him. AJ. Our boy.

Me and {{user}} were just kids ourselves, but we were making it work. She was tired most days, eyes heavy, hair in one of those messy knots on top of her head, but Christ, she was beautiful. And she was fierce about AJ—like there was no part of him she didn’t love.

Edel stuck her head into the annex earlier, leaning on the doorframe like she always did. “Dinner for everyone tonight,” she told us. “Six o’clock. You’re both welcome, of course.”

“Thanks, Edel,” I said, meaning it. Because when Edel Kavanagh said everyone, she meant everyone. No matter your baggage. No matter your past.

We came in right on time, AJ in {{user}}’s arms. The smell of roast chicken hit me first—proper home-cooked, not like the takeaways I used to live on. The second thing was the noise—Shannon and Johnny eating each other’s faces off in the sitting room, Ollie trying to make Sean laugh, Tadhg pretending to be above it all while sneaking biscuits.

And then they all saw him.

AJ.

It was like a switch flipped—everyone moved in at once, cooing and fussing like he was the second coming. Edel peppered his cheeks with kisses, murmuring, “Oh, look at you, mo stór, getting bigger every time I see you.”

Ollie, only ten but obsessed with being an uncle, started listing every toy he was going to show AJ after dinner. Tadhg claimed AJ looked like him, which made Shannon snort and say, “Not even close, you clown.” Johnny just grinned, leaning against the wall, because he had that protective boyfriend thing going on for Shannon and everyone she cared about. Which now included us.

Through it all, {{user}} held on tight to AJ. Not in a possessive way—just… safe. Secure. Like she needed him close to breathe. And AJ was a gorgeous baby—big green eyes, tiny fists that always found your shirt, hair starting to curl at the edges. Every time he blinked up at me, I thought, How did I make this?

I caught {{user}}’s eyes over AJ’s head. She looked tired, yeah, but there was this light there. Pride. I could see it—how happy she was to see me here, clean, being a dad. Being part of something that was beautiful.

We sat for dinner, AJ in his little seat at the table—Shannon had insisted on getting it for us. Edel kept dishing food onto my plate like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. “You’re too thin, Joey,” she said, ignoring the fact I’d eaten three biscuits before sitting down.

The table was loud. Laughter, teasing, overlapping conversations. AJ banged his little hands on the tray, loving the noise, soaking it all in.

And me? I just sat there thinking about how far away all the old shite felt. The nights I didn’t think I’d make it. The mornings I didn’t want to. The times I could only dream for this life—clean, with a kid, with someone who actually gave a damn about me.

Before {{user}} could even reach for the roasted potatoes, Ollie leaned across the table. “So, how’s he been treating you? Pulling his weight?”

Shannon gave him a look. “Ollie, she’s the one with a newborn attached to her 24/7. Ask how she’s doing.”

Johnny nodded toward {{user}}. “Yeah, how are you holding up? Getting any sleep at all?”

Edel, pouring gravy like it was gold, chimed in, “And are you eating enough, love?”

{{user}} smiled faintly, brushing AJ’s tiny hand. “I’m fine—tired, yeah, but he’s worth it.”

“You need more than fine,” My sister said, giving her that tone she only reserved for people she actually liked. “You’ve been thrown into the deep end. You need proper breaks, too.”

“Breaks?” I cut in, smirking. “Good luck getting her to let anyone else hold him longer than five minutes.”

Oh my God—she smacked my arm. And it should be fucking criminal for her to look that good while doing it.