Molly hadn't expected an apology from Miles. She paused, tilting her head to look at him.
"Felix told me everything. If it weren't for you, the company would've been in serious trouble."
Printing the missing product labels, then applying them by hand—the solution was crude, but it was the only option available.
She had stayed calm under pressure, made quick decisions. She was sharp, capable, someone who solved problems.
For the first time, Molly saw something in his eyes that looked like genuine appreciation. Not that familiar icy disdain.
Her nose stung.
Three years. This was the first time he'd ever looked at her without hostility—and it had to be now, when she'd already decided on divorce.
She dropped her gaze. "Just doing my job. Can't exactly collect a paycheck for nothing."
After that, neither of them spoke.