Chapter 60

Dashiell closed his eyes, the memory of Miriam’s torrential tears flashing behind his lids. The first time he’d gotten behind the wheel of the sleek, silver Aston Martin after the accident, legs shaky but determination burning, she’d lost it. Hours of hysterical sobbing, punctuated by choked pleas for him to ‘just live, please,’ had left him shaken. He’d traded the roar of engines for the hum of the treadmill, the adrenaline rush for the slow, methodical pace of physiotherapy. A sigh escaped his lips, a touch of self-reproach mingling with the longing. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’ ‘Oh well, if you ever change your mind, the invitation still stands,’ Ari said, his voice laced with a good-natured understanding. ‘Give my regards to Miriam.’ ‘Will do.’ Dashiell clicked off the call, the regret settling in his stomach like a lead weight. Ari’s casual revelation about Elodie’s culinary skills ricocheted in his skull, each bounce echoing a hollow void he hadn’t realised existed. He ran