The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

He scrubbed his hands over his face. Calling himself every awful name under the sun.

And she was leaving him. So much sooner than he was ready to let her go. But considering how today went

that was probably for the best anyway.

His phone chimed, and he glared at its brightly lit face on the nightstand. He reached for it, and then frowned at the message displayed on the lock screen.

Hey!! Guess what?

He sighed and swiped the screen to get into his message app. Vicki may prove exactly the diversion he needed right now.

What?

You’ll find out soon enough

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

What are you up to, Vic?

Who me????? Nothing. Just your beloved sister being beloved. Hugs!!!!!!!!!!

Vicki!!

Miss you, big bruvva.

He sent a few more texts demanding answers, but they remained unread.

Damn it!

He hoped she wasn’t up to something ridiculous again. His sister was sweet, creative, and smart as a whip…but she was stupidly impulsive at times. He trusted that Chambers would keep her from doing anything too imprudent.

He sighed disconsolately. As diversions went, this one hadn’t been particularly effective because his mind refocused on Charity all too damned soon.

He should get used to it. Because this was just the start of the rest of his miserable life without her.

Charity was already prepping for breakfast by the time Miles dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen the following morning. He had succumbed to a restless doze shortly before sunrise and had barely scraped together three hours of sleep.

He was in a dark emotional space, and seeing her standing in the middle of the kitchen back in her Mrs. Fucking Cole get up, felt like a shot to the heart.

“Morning,” she greeted, eyes averted, as she removed a carton of eggs from the fridge.

He said nothing. Instead he glared at her until she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

She carefully placed the eggs on the island between them and gave him an imploring look. “Miles…”

“Why, Charity?”

“I thought it would be easier.”

“Easier to use the same shield that worked for you after years of spousal abuse?” Didn’t she get what a total fucking affront that was? “You thought you needed it with me? After everything we…”

His voice cracked, and he shook his head in frustration.

“It’s not like that,” she hastened to explain. “Miles, I never intended to insult or to hurt you. I just feel less vulnerable with a clearly defined role to play. No misunderstandings…no emotions. Just work. Until I leave.”

He. Could. Not. Bear. It.