Page 50 of Cowboy
"Ciarán," I start hesitantly, "what about Saoirse? Legally, I mean. I can't... I can't lose her."
Ciarán turns to face me fully, his expression serious. "We won't let that happen. I've already talked to Jer about it. He's got some connections in family services. We're going to do everything we can to make sure Saoirse stays with you."
Relief floods through me at his words. "Thank you," I whisper, feeling tears prick at my eyes.
Ciarán reaches out, gently wiping away a tear that's escaped. "You don't have to thank me, Caoimhe. I told you, we're in this together."
As I look into his eyes, I'm struck by the depth of emotion I see there. Despite everything that's happened, everything I've been through, I feel a flutter in my chest. A feeling I thought I'd never experience again.
"Ciarán," I say softly, "I don't know what I'd do without you."
He smiles gently. It’s a warm smile that reaches his eyes. "You'll never have to find out. I'm not going anywhere."
For a moment I allow myself to believe that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay. The road ahead is long and uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, I feel a glimmer of hope for the future.
Once night hits, I find myself leaning into Ciarán's side, feeling comfortable in his presence. We don't speak much, but the silence is comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding and support. He’s taken care of me and Saoirse. As soon as we arrived home, he cooked for us, making sure that we ate.
Eventually, exhaustion begins to overtake me. Ciarán notices my drooping eyelids and gently suggests I get some rest. As I stand to head upstairs, a wave of dizziness hits me, and I stumble slightly. Ciarán is at my side in an instant, his arm around my waist, steadying me.
"Easy there," he says softly. "Let me help you upstairs."
I nod, too tired to argue. As we make our way up to the guest room, I lean heavily on Ciarán, grateful for his support. At the door, I pause, suddenly reluctant to be alone.
"Ciarán," I whisper, my voice shaky. "Would you... would you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep? I don't want to be alone."
His eyes soften with understanding. "Of course, Caoimhe. Whatever you need."
We enter the room quietly, careful not to wake Saoirse, who's curled up on one side of the bed. I slip under the covers on the other side, and Ciarán settles into a chair beside the bed.
As I lay there, the events of the day replaying in my mind, I feel the familiar tendrils of fear and anxiety creeping in. But then I feel Ciarán's hand gently take mine, and somehow, it grounds me.
"I'm here," he murmurs. "You're safe now. Both of you."
I squeeze his hand, feeling a rush of gratitude. "Thank you," I whisper back.
As I drift off to sleep, Ciarán's hand still in mine, I realize that for the first time in a long time, I feel truly safe. The road ahead will be difficult, I know that. But with Ciarán by my side and Saoirse to care for, I have a reason to keep fighting, to keep healing.
Tomorrow will bring new challenges, but for now, I let myself sink into a peaceful sleep, anchored by Ciarán's steady presence and the soft sound of Saoirse's breathing beside me.
I wake to the smell of coffee and the quiet murmur of voices downstairs. For a moment, panic grips me as I realize I'm alone in the bed, but then I hear Saoirse's giggle floating up from the kitchen, and I relax.
I make my way downstairs, pausing at the kitchen doorway to take in the scene before me. Ciarán is at the stove, flipping pancakes, while Saoirse sits at the table, her legs swinging as she chatters away about something. The normality of it all nearly brings me to tears.
"Good morning," I say softly, not wanting to startle them.
Saoirse's face lights up. "Caoimhe! Ciarán's making pancakes! With chocolate chips!"
Ciarán turns, a warm smile on his face. "Hey, how are you feeling?"
I consider the question for a moment. "Better," I say, realizing it's true. The rest has done me good, and the sight of Saoirse and Ciarán together brings a warmth to my chest.
"Hungry?" Ciarán asks, gesturing to the stack of pancakes.
I nod, settling into a chair at the table. "Starving, actually."
As Ciarán sets a plate in front of me, I'm struck by how domestic this all feels. It's a stark contrast to the horrors we've been through, and for a moment, I allow myself to imagine this could be our new normal.
"So," Ciarán says as he joins us at the table, "I was thinking we could go shopping today. Get you and Saoirse some clothes and other things you might need."
