BRAD,
For some reason, I find myself in the break room at lunchtime.
I have no reason to be here.
Except one.
Mia.
She’s sitting at the small table near the window with Joanna, her brown curls pulled into a ponytail, a smile on her face. She looks lighter today. Happier. More at ease.
Her mother must really be doing well.
That smile does something to me. Something it shouldn’t.
And when she leans her head back and laughs, it’s like I’ve been set on fire.
She notices me then. Her eyes brighten with humor for half a second—then the light dies instantly. She straightens, pushing her chair back.
“I’m sorry,” she says stiffly. “I didn’t know you needed—”
I lift a hand, cutting her off. “You’re fine, Mia. I’m just here for coffee.”
Her brow furrows, but she doesn’t say anything. Neit
