Her Reluctant Wife: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

done, though barely there. She felt certain about this woman as

well.

“We’re engaged?”

“What?” the woman gasped. She looked shocked. Probably

because to not remember one’s own fiancé was indeed a

shocking thing to happen. Her hand flew to her throat, a

nervous gesture, but then her fingers settled on the ring there

and she fingered it like she’d done so a thousand times before,

touching it with reverence and care. “You’ve hit your head.

Hard. You need a doctor.”

“No,” Giana protested again. “I’ll be fine. I’m fine. I’m just

having some trouble remembering.”

“Which is why you need to get help. Get checked out or

something. If you don’t remember things, that’s a problem.”

“Are we engaged?” Giana persisted. She reached out her

hand and the woman shied away, then froze. That ring was still

between her fingers. There was something in her eyes. A flash

of desperation, like a plea. They strayed away to the window,

and then slowly tracked back. Her face was more composed

now. She probably needed a second. This was awful for her.

Truly awful.

“Yes,” she whispered. She couldn’t look at Giana. She

looked at the floor beside her. “It’s a secret engagement.”

Giana’s heart slowed to a grind. The blood rushed in her

ears, and her brain was pounding so hard, it hadn’t really

stopped since the second she’d opened her eyes.

“Why?” She searched for a good reason. “Because my

parents don’t know that I’m a lesbian?” No, she was sure they

knew. She couldn’t say how she knew, but she was certain.

She didn’t feel any disapproval there.