Miles was rubbish at this emotional stuff. At least, he knew he was. Daphne was different - they had a magical connection to each other's emotions, which meant they didn't need to talk to explain what the hell they were feeling. Besides, she was his wife. Cass was... a friend? Perhaps they could salvage something of this when it was all over.
As much as he figured he should stay and drink with Cass, he was supposed to head back out to the bar. That, plus the fact he should be delivering Cass' information to Rodolphus straight afterwards showed that he shouldn't let himself get drunk.
With a sigh, he opened another drawer, pulling a hangover potion from it and passing it across the desk with the bottle of firewhiskey. "Go home, Cass. Drink yourself numb. Take that in the morning and then it might all seem better." He knew it wouldn't, but at least it could help him forget things for a while.