be alone. She needed the comfort of her two best friends.
“Hey …” she started, hating that she was intruding. Luke looked over at her and smiled. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”
“Of course not, sweets. When do you ever ask?” he replied.
“Since today, I guess. It’s been a very weird day.”
Curling up in a chair, she tried to focus on the show they were watching, something about demon hunters, but her mind kept returning back to the events of the day.
Was that their last embrace? The last time they were intimate with each other? Ethan said it wasn’t over. He didn’t want it to be over. Did he? Did she? More questions to add to her unanswered list. Like how could this have happened?
Moving in the chair to adjust her position, her bruised hip hit the arm. She winced and couldn’t stem the tears that very quickly became sobs. Covering her face with both hands, Mia cried and kept on crying even when Luke lifted her out of the chair and brought her to sit between him and Allie. She rested her head on Allie’s shoulder, clutching Luke’s hand like it was a lifeline.
Eventually her sobs stopped and the numb feeling took over again. She hated feeling like this.
“What a time to be pregnant. I could really use a drink.”
“Did you tell Ethan?” Luke inquired, squeezing her hand.
“No. And I don’t plan on it right now. I do not love the man that did this to me. He needs to find the man I love—the man I married. He’s lost and I don’t even know where to start to look in order to help.”
Mia
The next morning, Mia woke up with a smile, having her little boys snuggled up close to her, one little hand wrapped around a couple of her fingers and another grasped around a lock of her hair. She missed mornings like this, the smell of their hair tickling her nose, the calming sound of their soft breathing. The one thing missing was Ethan and that thought had her closing her eyes tight as she fought away the tears.
With a long, deep breath, she eased herself out of bed and got ready. Then she pulled out a clean outfit for each boy and carried her bags downstairs. She wanted to get to Chicago at a decent time. Grocery shopping needed to be done. There was nothing at the brownstone and these boys had crazy appetites and she was on her own with that. Her assistant, Bree, was still in Europe taking care of a few things for her, and Bridgette was on vacation for the next week. It was supposed to be the perfect time for it. Mia would have just been back and wanting to spend uninterrupted time with her family. No need for the nanny, but she definitely needed her now.
But in the meantime she was on her own. She needed to find a balance and what better way to do that than to get in the kitchen and cook something. Cooking had always calmed her down.
She searched the refrigerator and decided to make a frittata. She gathered the ingredients on the counter, pulled out a cutting board, and chopped away. She put the veggies in the heated skillet and turned around to find Luke sitting at the island, a big grin on his face.
“Hi,” she said with a sheepish smile, feeling like she just got caught. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all! I love when you cook.”
“Thanks! I needed this. When I’m on tour, I go weeks without cooking and I feel so off-balance, loaded with stress. When I’m in the kitchen, the stress goes away.”
“Really? It stresses me out.”
She laughed, remembering the handful of times Luke had ever been in the kitchen when they were together. “So that’s why I always did the cooking?”
“Partly. But mostly because your food was just so much better than mine.”
“Very true,” she said, winking at him. She turned down the heat and started cracking the eggs into a large bowl.
“Hot!” he said jokingly.
“You’re one weird dude. How did sweet and serious Allie ever fall for you?”
“You know why,” he said, quirking his eyebrows.
“Haha!” she laughed, beating the eggs. She would never admit it now but he was very good. They’d had a lot of sex when they were together and even after they had broken up, they kept coming back for the sex. But now, their relationship was beyond that and the urge to