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laugh all the time. It mattered. A small thrill shot through
Giana. She denied it to herself just like she’d denied, over and
over again, that Coralyn Anderson was utterly captivating.
“Alright. I made us dinner.”
Another flash of surprise lit up Coralyn’s face. “Are you
serious? You cooked?”
“You look shocked. If I was anyone else, I’d say something
about your face staying that way.”
“If you were anyone else,” Coralyn scoffed, brushing the
notion away with an amused slash of her hand. “What did you
make? Is it a roast?”
“It is.”
“Great. I’m starving suddenly. Let’s eat.”
Just like that. Like it was simple. Like they did this. Like
their relationship didn’t consist entirely of sex between the
hours of seven and nine, and nothing else after. Like there
weren’t annulment papers and an NDA waiting for Coralyn,
and as soon as she put her name on them, it would all be over.
They ended up seated across from each other at the large,
modern dining table. . Surrounded by more glass cases here
and there and expensive artwork. Giana now fully remembered
the history behind each piece. The reason she’d wanted it.
Where she purchased it. She never forgot. Somehow that
mattered to her in the past.
She’d set the table before Coralyn arrived. The covered
serving dishes contained the beef roast, gravy, mashed
potatoes, and candied carrots. Coralyn had guessed correctly.
She helped herself to everything, heaping her plate. Giana
noticed how she’d lost weight, just slightly, but it was there.
When you saw a person naked, and weeks had passed between
