Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
mia
Since one, this is a favor for Liam, and two, I don’t want to abandon a child who was just forsaken by her own mother, I need to stick around. If the price is to hear the bells of shame clang behind me for the rest of my life, so be it.
But I need to keep myself busy to at least muffle the sound of it. So I tidy up the craft mess, vacuum twice to make sure no glitter’s left behind, and after accidentally vacuuming the entire ground floor, decide the gym Dr. Preston just used is next.
Once I’m done, I head back upstairs and find them both in the kitchen, starting dinner. How cute is that?
But the doctor’s stern tone cuts off the smile blooming on my face.
“Were you cleaning down there?”
“Yes, I was. Why?”
“I’ve told you that you don’t need to clean in this house.”
I wave him off. “I don’t mind. If I’m living here, I’m helping out.”
“I take great pride in keeping my gym clean and tidy, Ms. Thorne.” The corner of his mouth lifts.
That makes me laugh. “Tidy, yes. Clean? No, those mats were gross. An inch of dust on top of each, at least.”
I watch, front row, as his playful mood comes to a halt. Oh, fuck. What did I do wrong now? Is he that anal about cleaning?
“Lily, can you go get your backpack ready for school, please?”
My little buddy, peeling carrots with surgical precision, sighs, not happy to be interrupted again by her father. “But Daaaad, it’s Saturday. I can do that tomorrow.”
“Now, Lily. Please.”
He’s still holding the knife. Will I make things worse if I ask him to put that thing down?
Lils stomps up the stairs, muttering age-appropriate curses. As soon as she’s out of earshot, he turns to me, blade lowered.
“Those belonged to my ex-wife. I have no desire to touch them.”
Ah. Okay. Well, I’ve got a fix for that. Is it intrusive? Absolutely. Am I going to try it anyway? Same answer applies.
“So you don’t use them?”
“No.” He goes back to chopping onions, now with unnecessary force. The cutting board might need medical attention once he’s done.
“Okay, then. Excuse me for a second.”
I head downstairs, gather the four now-pristine yoga mats, come back up, and walk straight past him without a word. Do first, apologize later—one of my favorite mottos. I march outside and chuck them all in the bin.
When I return, he asks, “Did you just—”
“I did. Is that a problem?” My voice is steadier than I feel.
He stares as if he’s seeing me for the first time. I’m awarded with another one of his real smiles. And this one is all because of me. I take the opening and bump his hip with mine.
“Ahhhh…” I make a whole production of the exhale. “Decluttering. So good for the soul. You should try it sometime.”
He tries to wipe the smile off his face, but it stays put. He looks surprised by me. A little in awe. Maybe even grateful. But mostly, just stunned that I pulled that off, I think.
I wash my hands and ask, “Now, how can I help?”
“You’re here to look after my daughter. Not clean. Not cook.”
Oh, please. He’s a doctor. He’s supposed to be smart. Does he really think he’s going to win this fight?
“Again, Dr. Preston, that’s not how I see it. I’m here to take care of a family. But we can discuss that in more detail once Lily’s asleep. Deal?”
* * *
Later that night, once Lily’s curled up in bed with her new stuffed seahorse, I retreat to my own room with a plan.
I slap a stack of papers on my office desk. Time to put it to good use. It’s soon covered in color-coded Post-its, scribbles on index cards—including a drawing of a muscly stick figure doing Pilates—embossed labels for each topic, and highlighter tabs for each page.
The second I’m satisfied with the strategy I’ve drawn, I try my luck downstairs.
Preston’s in the kitchen rinsing dishes, looking entirely unsuspecting. Poor man. Won’t know what hit him.
“About to finish over there?” I ask, sitting on my favorite stool at the counter. Obviously, it’s the one Lily saved for me earlier.
He looks at me over his shoulder and shuts off the faucet. Even timing is on my side tonight. I’m going to ace this.
“Sure, what do you need?” he asks, eyebrows migrating up and toward each other.
But then he throws the kitchen towel over his shoulder, and I have to resist the instinct to moan a “Yes, Chef.” Focus, Mia! Focus!
“To kickstart your comeback tour,” I say, dead serious. “Preston 2.0: The Revenge of the Doctor Dad Era.” I draw the title in the air like a movie banner, hands arcing in a rainbow.
He doesn’t respond. He just blinks, looking lost. That’s fine. I came prepared for rejection as a first reaction.
“So,” I continue, revealing the first page with my best Shark Tank flourish, “this is your proposed schedule. A holistic, slightly wacky strategy that’s equal parts accountability and TLC.”
He stares me down. “You made me a personalized intervention manual.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I’ve made these for billionaires and moguls. You’re neither. But you are a tired single dad who smells of stress and old cardio.”
Preston smirks at my near-offensive honesty.
“You do realize you terrify me in very efficient ways, right?” I soak in the compliment. He opens his mouth to say something else, but quickly shuts it.
I take it as permission to keep going.
“Give me a month,” I start. “On weekdays, you’ve got a trainer. I sourced three while I was upstairs—all make house calls. CBT twice a week—first session already booked, a top-rated psychologist, with full credentials.”
I cut off the comment I know is coming. “Yes, I work fast. That’s why Liam pays me the big bucks. Also, weekly massages. Rub the grump right off your shoulders. And thirty minutes of ‘quiet time’ before dinner. All non-negotiable.”
“Quiet time,” he repeats the words like it’s a foreign concept.
“Yes. No phone. No case studies. Just vibes. Read. Meditate. I don’t care. Just… give your nervous system a break for half an hour. It’ll help prevent burnout, improve your sleep, and make you more present with Lily.”
I don’t say any of it unkindly. In fact, I’m surprised by how gentle my voice gets. But I’ve been watching this man clench through life for the last few days. I’ve seen how affected he gets when she-who-must-not-be-named is mentioned.
The man had a meltdown.
He’s not fit for work.
He feels he failed his kid.
I’m only here for a short time, and I’ll be damned if I don’t turn Dr. Preston into the best version of himself. He needs a reboot. And maybe, maybe, I want to be part of it.
Preston glances at the paper again, then at me. “This is insane.”
I do a curtsy, holding my imaginary skirt. “Thank you. I do my best.”
“You actually expect me to follow this?” His finger circles my messy but readable notes.
“Of course not. I expect you to grumble, roll your eyes, follow it anyway, then pretend it was your idea all along.”
For a second, I swear he almost smiles. Then he exhales through his nose and gives the plan a once-over, like it might be rigged to explode. “I’m not doing Pilates.”
“That’s fine,” I say, already peeling that Post-it off. “That was an add-on anyway.”
“Or massages.”
“On that one I’ll have to insist. I can share studies that show—”
“I’m not negotiating, Mia.”
When I face him again, I’m all business. “But I am. So that means you have to come to the table. I dropped Pilates. I’m not scrapping the massages. We’ll reassess at the end of every week, okay?”
He nods, relieved. A bit too soon though.
“I’m not done, by the way.” I turn to the next page. “Here are a few more things to make your life smoother and ease your routine back to work.
Another info-dump in disguise with colored cards and pretty calligraphy hits him.
“I’ll have a nutritionist come and do a meal plan for the family.
He’ll also do a bunch of meal prep to save you precious time with Lily.
You can still cook together a few nights, but that’ll take the burden off, so dinner doesn’t become a chore.
“Next, I’ll book that meeting at her school. They need to know that Lily’s world has changed. And they need to be both sensitive and observant of her situation. Inform you if her behavior changes in any way.”
“Fuck, you’re right. Hate that I didn’t think of that myself.”
“There’s a lot on your plate, Preston. That’s where I come in, to help unburden you.
” I tidy the papers between us. “Those are the things I can do for you. There are two very important ones I can’t.
” I don’t give him long to regroup. “One’s at the end of your very successful month under new management—” I thumb toward myself, grinning.
“Talk to the board. Ease back in. Start with two days a week, then three. See how it feels.”
“What’s the other?” Oh, wow. Look who’s listening. I’d smile if the subject in question wasn’t a hard one.
“You need to talk to Lily about Blake. April told me she doesn’t know the whole story and at some point, she just stopped asking.” He looks at the ceiling, and I don’t judge the cop-out.
“I know.” My heart splinters at how broken he sounds in those two words. After a beat, he knocks his knuckles on the kitchen island, putting an end to my presentation. “Thanks, Mia. That was… a lot.” He deflates. “A lot of good things in there, though. We can discuss more tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, Doctor.” I salute him, easing us back into a lighter atmosphere.