Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Miles sat with me on the flight back to Chicago, drinking with me until I could forget the last few days completely. Mia, freshly back from her stint in England, picked up our stumbling, giggling, pickled selves at the airport and tucked us each into bed—Miles at her place, me in mine.
Even when I was sober again, she cooed over me like a mother hen, making sure I had company when I wanted it during my bereavement. Miles took over the role of my chef, bringing in all my favorite fast foods and even cooking twice.
In honor of my first day back to work, exactly one week after I received the devastating phone call, he was making spaghetti from his nana’s secret family recipe, one his mom had served for him when he’d spent time with her in Des Moines
