EDWINA
Noah and I spent the night in Kieran's house.
We got comfortable, my son elated at the prospect of not having to go back home and leave his new superhero toys behind.
As I made dinner, I kept myself entertained by listening to Kieran narrate ghost stories to Noah, and our son's reactions was so hilarious that it was almost difficult to concentrate on the cooking.
After we had been well fed and satisfied, everyone piled into a couch in the sitting room to watch an animation. Noah slept not long after, unconsciousness dragging him under without making much of a fuss.
My — husband? Lover? Man? whatever label Kieran was — took him inside and came back to sit beside me.
Snuggled against him, a small, satisfied smile played on my lips. I felt at peace, all the mixed confusion and turmoil in me no where to be found.