Page 19 of Ladybirds

Lips thinning, Jen’s eyes narrow pointedly as she adjusts her purse over her shoulder. “You need to eat something.”

It’s enough to make Sara pause, but Miles only rolls his eyes—a tiny smile tucked in the corner of his mouth. “Yes, dear. I’ll have a breakfast sandwich.”

She nods approvingly, giving Sara another soft smile. “I’ll be right back.” Then she’s wading through the crowd and leaving them behind.

Sara hangs her messenger bag over the back of the chair. “Hurting?” Jen only ever bugs him about eating when there’s a possibility of him needing his pain meds.

Miles sighs, hand rubbing his thigh. “Just aching. Been running around the ER probably more than I should. But I gotta make this last year count if I’m gonna land a job there after I finish my residency.”

Sara frowns, leaning her elbow on the table. “Do you have your meds?”

“You’re as bad as Jen. Yes, I have them. No, I don’t need them.” He looks over his shoulder, making sure his fiancée is well out of hearing range before he leans forward. “Now cut the crap. How are you, really?”

Sara flinches, hating that he can tell. Her gaze drops to her drink, stirring with her straw and watching the ice clink against the sides of the glass. “I said I’m fine.”

“Yeah, right. You and me? We speak the same language. You saying you’re fine is the same way I say I’m fine.” His finger taps emphatically against the table. “Which means you’re not fine.”

“I just don’t want to talk about it, ok?” she hisses. “It’s hard enough without—” She doesn’t finish that sentence. She can’t. “I’m just… struggling to adjust. It’s no big deal.”

“You lost your boyfriend to a traumatic brain injury,” he says, voice soft. “I’d say that’s a pretty big deal.”

“I didn’t lose David. He’s just, he’s just a little lost right now. He’ll come back.” She wishes she sounded more confident, more convinced. The doubt threading through her voice is as obvious as the pity in Miles’ eyes.

“Either way, he ain’t here.” He lays a hand over his chest. “Now, personally? I think you’re gonna be better off without his pasty ass—”

“I’m pasty.”

“Yes, but I like you. And I know you love him, but he was always going to hold you back.” His brown eyes, a handful of shades lighter than Jen’s, pin her to her seat. “You are going to move mountains without him dragging you down, girl.”

“Look, I know David wasn’t your favorite—”

“Understatement.”

Sara sends him a dry, unamused look.

Miles matches it. “Dude never wanted for anything in his life, and it shows.”

“That’s not his fault!”

“Oh, so his daddy making a donation to the school had nothing to do with David pulling a passing grade out of his pampered ass? That wasn’t on him, at all?”

“We can’t control what our parents do, Miles.”

“Really? Because an honest man would have taken the failing grade and repeated the class like everyone else.”

“It was one class.”

“He’s going to be a lawyer. His daddy buying him a winning grade in legal ethics would be like me sleeping through pharmaceuticals and passing anyway.”

Miles’ brows arch, challenging her to disagree. “He got a pass freshman year, but three years in the real world should be enough to make a guy realize he’s a pampered brat.” He lifts his mug, sticking his pinky out mockingly. “And that’s the tea.”

Sara’s lips purse, irritation growing when he takes a loud, slurping sip without breaking eye contact. “Sometimes, you’re kind of a jerk.”

“No, sometimes I’m brutally honest. There’s a difference. And if you weren’t my friend, and I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t bother.”

“Whatever. Point is, I’m fine. So shut up about it before Jen gets back. You know how she is.”

“Wonderful and caring, sometimes to the point of suffocation?” he says, eyeing his fiancé fondly from across the shop. “Yeah, I know.”

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