wearing her coat. Had she come to see her? Were they going
somewhere together? Somewhere exciting? An illicit sort of
meeting? Or just lunch? Was it lunch time? Where was her
coat?
“It’s here.” The woman let go of her waist and Giana felt
shaky on her feet when she didn’t have the stranger to lean on.
She picked her coat off the hook to the side of the door, a
black, three-quarter length wool coat that looked expensive,
and slid it around Giana’s shoulders. She helped her tuck her
arms in, and it made Giana’s face flush hot to have to rely on
her to do that for her. She waved away the small hands that
tried the buttons and did them up herself.
They made it through the office. Giana managed to keep her
head up and walk straight past the reception desk- where there
was no one sitting there at the moment- and get in the elevator.
The woman stopped at the security desk to return the guest
pass, then, when they were out on the street, she put her arm
around Giana’s waist again, even though she was feeling
stronger. Even though she was better, she left it there.
They made their way down the cramped street, their breaths
turning to white clouds around their heads. Apparently, it was
winter, though Giana wasn’t sure what month, and the cold
was biting. She felt it through the folds of her coat.
“Okay. This is it.” It couldn’t be. Giana stared down the
piece of shit silver sedan in the parking space. This couldn’t be
her fiancée’s car. She would never let the woman she loved
drive something like this. It wasn’t just embarrassing, it wasn’t
reliable. It could become a death trap in an accident.
That thought sliced through her, like the sharpest of knives,
cutting through her nerves like they’d been exposed to the