That night, things were pretty much quiet until I went downstairs – but I guess, things never stay quiet for too long.

I was sitting at the table and sifting through the groceries Raine and I had gotten in the morning.

That one, stupid moment kept replaying and replaying in my head like a deranged video tape that was stuck on a loop.

I drew a sharp breath and shook my head, knowing full well that my face was just as red as my hair.

Scooter’s paw on the back of my hand made me look up; I stroked him briefly before turning again to sort the bathroom soaps out.

I heard the door swing open.

The footfalls that followed were light, and they reminded me of Scooter’s soft padding. It wasn’t Mrs. McCarthy’s homely bustle, nor Seamus’ army walk.

I kept my back to Raine as I put the liquid soaps to one side, and the bars to the other.

I heard him sigh jadedly, but said nothing as I drew out a Palmolive body soap out of the brown bag.

“Aidan…”

Being the stubborn ass I was, I didn’t turn.