Chapter 11
“HOW ARE WE EVEN supposed to know where to begin?” Piper wailed.
Myles slid an arm around his wife and followed her gaze, taking in her bedroom, which looked like a tornado had ripped through. Which it sort of had, given the frenzy with which she’d packed for their honeymoon. “Okay, so it’s going to be a lot. But there’s no rule that says we have to get everything moved today. We don’t even have to get it all this weekend.” And thank God for it. Piper’s house was eighteen hundred square feet of stuff. Pictures on every wall, furniture shoved cheek-by-jowl into every room. He had space in his place—their place—but just getting all of her things packed up was going to be a major undertaking. Maybe he could talk her into doing a little purging in the process.
Myles considered, b
