Her Reluctant Wife: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

through the roar in her ears, the aching at her temples, she had

a rush of thoughts she couldn’t control.

Everything about this woman was what she’d always told

herself she’d never wanted. She’d represented something, a

symbol of what Giana had always held apart from herself. In

essence, she was human like everyone else, even if there were

people who would call her an icy, automated robot. Didn’t

everyone want to love and be loved? This whole thing had

been her subconscious writhing in rebellion, taking over,

wanting to live her life for her. God, she must have hit her

head hard.

This wasn’t unconditional love. How could she have

thought that after a lifetime of steeling herself? She looked

back at herself from the past few days and she didn’t recognize

herself. She’d had fucking stars in her eyes. Dreams. She’d

offered herself up and let herself just be alive. She’d done all

the things she knew better than to do because it never ended

well.

Her emotions had escaped and made a bloody, horrible mess

of everything, as she’d always known they would. She was

absolutely vindicated in how she’d chosen to live her life

before. A few days could have destroyed her. It would, if she

didn’t do some fast and immediate damage control. It didn’t

matter that for a few brief seconds, she’d felt real happiness,

and that was more than she’d achieved in two decades on her

own, because all of it was fake.

All of it for this petite stranger with summer sky eyes and a

potent sadness that was so different, like it was just a passing

storm that would break and then she’d find that light again and

she might even extend her hand and pull Giana into that light