2.8 | Miles Away

05 | So Far Away (I)

  

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S O   F A R   A W A Y

(part one)

DINNER THAT WEEKEND should've been uneventful as it usually was, except that I couldn't quite get Miles out of my head. I knew my family would want to know because they'd once considered him a part of this family.

But I dawdled and delayed until dessert, unsure of how to broach the subject. I pushed ice-cream around my bowl while my family chattered on about the upcoming New Years' Eve party. When the ice-cream had finally melted into a slushy mess, I dragged in a deep breath.

"So," I started slowly, "I met Miles again."

That stopped them. Three pairs of eyes turned to me in matching disbelief. Then, all at once, I was bombarded with questions.

"Where did you meet him?"

"Does he still remember me?"

"How did the meeting go?"

"What did you say to him?"

"Is he still as dashing as ever?"

That last one came from Mom. Dad snorted in mirth, but Ean and I looked at her with wide-eyed incredulity.

She shrugged. "What? My baby daughter found a lovely man worthy of every Austen novel. I just wanted to know if he's stayed the same."

I shook my head. Miles Callaghan might've been as dashing as any of Austen's leading men, but our relationship had been nothing like an Austen romance.

"Let's see," I said, counting off my fingers. "I met him at Hale & Co. where he apparently owns the damn company. I have no idea whether he remembers you, Ean. And I said 'hi'."

I deliberately left out the conversation that followed that, where Miles had told me to stay away from him. I'd replayed that moment dozens of times over in my mind and, up till now, it still hurt.

"And yes, Mom, he's still as dashing as ever," I finished. "Think George Knightley from Emma."

"Huh." Mom's lips were pursed as she considered. Her eyes danced now that I'd broached her favorite topic. "I've always seen him as similar to Captain Wentworth from Persuasion, but I suppose I can see where you're coming from. And he did care so much for Emma. Do you remember how—"

"Mom!" Ean rolled his eyes. "My dinner's making a glorious comeback up my throat."

She frowned at him. "In that case, please go to the bathroom. You know I throw up when you throw up."

I shook my head and grabbed my ice-cream bowl. "Well, not that this hasn't been fun, but I'm heading off to bed before all that talk about throwing up makes me throw up. You know what a crazy imagination I have. Where did you put the new sheets, Mom?"

"In your old closet, as usual, second shelf."

"Great, thanks." I climbed to my feet and turned to the kitchen, only to be stopped by Dad.

"Darce." His voice was quiet and when I turned, I found him staring at me, his eyebrows pitched with mild concern. "You didn't answer my question."

"Which was...?"

"How did the meeting go?"

Damn it. Should've known that my evasion wouldn't escape him. After all, this was the man who'd always managed to find me when I played hide-and-seek as a kid. I fixed the brightest smile I could muster on my face. "It went great, Dad. Miles was...Miles."

Before anyone else could speak, I hurried off to the kitchen and busied myself with washing the dishes. Once I was done, I escaped to my old room. I'd lied. Miles wasn't Miles—at least, not the one I knew from before.

The last time I'd seen him was three years ago. Though the screen of my old laptop had been blurry, I remembered how bright his eyes had been. They sparkled with the kind of warmth that I rarely saw from anyone else. I loved when they were directed at me, because it always felt like I'd caught a first ray of sunlight at the break of dawn. He'd worn a blue jumper that was several sizes too large, because he hadn't dared to return it to the store he'd bought it from. His faded jeans had a worn patch across one knee—which I'd noticed because he'd spent half the video call hugging his legs to his chest, and resting his chin on his knees.

But now...

In my mind's eye, I could remember perfectly how he'd looked the other day. He was tall and lean as he always had been. His eyes had been the color of the sky hidden by stormy clouds, and he'd had dark circles beneath them, as though he hadn't had a good night's sleep in ages. Where before his tousled dark hair had fallen into his eyes, it was now cropped short, perhaps just enough to sift my fingers through...

Really not a good idea to go there, Darcy.

I shook myself out of the reverie. Focus. What else had changed? He'd worn a black suit that seemed a perfect fit, and he held himself like a tightly-wound coil just waiting to snap. The atmosphere between us had been tense—not the kind that had previously sizzled with...well, desire; but a newfound hostility that bordered on antagonism.

It had never been this way with Miles. Even when we barely knew each other, I'd always felt comfortable around him. But his behaviour the other day had left me confused, floundering in uncharted waters that I wasn't even sure I liked. I'd gaped after him when he left, and had promptly walked out—

Shit.

Had my senses completely left me upon seeing Miles again? Not only had I forgotten about the meeting with Nate Johnson, but I'd actually left the files back at Hale & Co.

"I am in so much trouble," I groaned and curled on my other side.

By hook or by crook, I would have to return to Hale & Co. to retrieve those files, regardless of Miles's threats.