“I can’t, I’m sorry.” Mia pushed off him, grabbing her TV blanket and wrapping herself in it, unable to meet Wyatt’s eyes when forcing her next words out. “You should leave.”
She rushed to lock herself in the bathroom, leaning on the wall and sliding to the floor as she clutched the fabric to her heaving chest. A few minutes later she heard her front door closing.
Mia curled into herself, hugging her knees and resting her forehead on them, crying until the tears dried out and all she could feel was overwhelming numbness. Eventually, she managed to drag herself off the floor and back to the living room. Her home felt cold and empty, all traces of Wyatt being there were gone except for her discarded clothes, now waiting in a neat pile on the couch.
The documentary was still playing in the background, an expert giving their two cents on the ship sinking, and Mia’s phone was blinking with a small green light, showing she had a message.
Part of her was hoping it was from Wyatt, another part was dreading it, but when she unlocked her phone the only message waiting was another bot-sent RSVP for her mother’s annual birthday ball.
She’d been badgering Mia to attend for weeks and made no attempt to hide her interest in Wyatt, whom she only knew about through Durant.
Mia was more than reluctant, especially considering her mother’s propensity to be the center of attention by any means, especially with Mia’s friends. She never stooped so low as to try to seduce any of them, but she always demanded everyone’s full attention.
Wyatt wasn’t a factor anymore, though, and when she thought about facing him at the hub, escaping to Paris for a few days seemed like the lesser evil. Also, the division would be happy that she was finally using some of her vacation days.
With resignation, Mia pressedattendingand input 1 next to the number of guests, slumping down on the couch to book the earliest flight to Paris.
Take Flight
Mia
Mia wanderedinto the dark and empty hub, drifting aimlessly into her office to collect some files to take with her to Paris. It had been over a week since Wyatt had shown up at her house, and the numbness was refusing to go away.
Wyatt hadn’t been at the hub since that night. Mia kept telling herself that it was for the best. She and Wyatt couldn’t keep working together, and after what she’d discovered about Herbert, she’d resolved to hand in her resignation when her vacation was over.
In the grand scheme of things, giving up her position in the faculty wasn’t even that painful.
Mia finished packing her backpack and grabbed her trolley. She was headed straight to the airport, a couple of hours too early but she couldn’t bring herself to talk to people today. She had just ordered a car when someone called her name.
“Mia.” Giles’ voice sent a small panic through Mia, but she forced a smile and turned to face him.
“Hi, Giles.”
“Oh, wow.” Giles leaned back as if to assess her more fully, his gaze worried. “You look like shite.” Mia lifted an eyebrow. “No offense.”
Mia rolled her eyes, glancing down at her phone to check how much longer she had to wait for her ride. “What can I do for you, Giles?”
“Could I send you some of my research data?” He steepled his palms in a begging gesture. “I need help.”
“Can’t Wyatt do that?” Mia asked. Any other day she would have helped Giles without thinking twice, but since she was quitting, minimizing her involvement was the sensible choice.
“Wyatt’s back in America, has been for days.” Giles tilted his head to the side, a slight frown forming on his lips. “I thought you knew, considering the two of you have been shagging for the past few months.”
Mia swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head as she looked down at her feet.
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t know.”
“Oh, okay, sorry.” Giles scratched the back of his head. “Err… You know what? I’ll just ask Amika, she’ll probably be able to help.”
“Sounds good,” Mia said, eyes still on her stilettos. She couldn’t seem to think about anything other than how impractical they were, yet somehow an integral part of who she was, and insensible as they may have been, Mia would never give her heels up.
A woman must always stand to her fullest height, Chérie, especially in a world dominated by men.It was one of the few valuable lessons her mother had taught her.
Her phone pinged, signaling that her ride to the airport had arrived.
“Right, I’ll see you later, then?” Giles asked, and Mia nodded distractedly. “Have a good visit home.”
Mia refrained from telling Giles that Paris was as far away from home as she could get. Oxford was her home, or at least itusedto be. The past week was spent nodding off on the couch in front of the television. Her bed was too big, her apartment too quiet. Mia wasn’t sure where home was anymore.