doorbell rang. Giana’s heart pounded. She left the whiskeys
and broke into a full-on sprint to answer.
Her heart nearly plummeted right out of her chest, her relief
was so great. She tried to pretend it wasn’t that at all, but it
was. Coralyn was there. She hadn’t bailed. She was more than
just a stranger. She was more than just Giana’s fiancée. She
was a woman who was part of her past, a past that Giana could
no longer remember. Coralyn was like a locked door, and
opening her up was the key to remembering. She was the
keeper of secrets.
Her face was stormy, her cheeks pink and her eyes red
rimmed. She didn’t look like a woman who was happy about
getting married. She looked like she was going into a battle
zone.
“Are you okay?” Giana held open the door and let Coralyn
come inside. It closed behind her on its own with a bang.
“Yeah. Sure.” Coralyn shed her coat and stepped out of the
same sturdy-looking footwear she’d worn to the office. She
stood in the hallway, her bare feet on the expensive woven rug
that covered the marble tile there.
Giana’s breath hitched. She allowed herself a second to
study Coralyn’s lacy bright red dress. It was vintage, which
she appeared to like given her coat. Expensive. It looked like it
had been made just for her. It fit her petite form, hugging her
waist and flowing over her breasts and hips. It fell below the
knee. There was something about Coralyn’s bare feet, because
she hadn’t brought any shoes to change into, that hit Giana
hard.
Was she the kind of woman who ever went barefoot? Who
let her hair down? Who relaxed? Was she guarded and uptight