Her Reluctant Wife: A Lesbian Age Gap Romance

the first time and the second, you noticed things like that. She

hadn’t commented on it. She knew that food turned to sawdust

and the appetite dried up when grief fuelled the body instead

of a desire to have the calories to make it through the day.

Giana was a grazer too. She picked at food most of the time.

She never had anyone come into the house and cook for her.

She had a cleaner, but she drew the line at that. This was the

first meal in a long time that she could remember cooking and

actually wanting to eat.

The roast was cooked perfectly, the meat soft and tender,

and the mashed potatoes were heaven. “I can’t have this

becoming predictable,” she said between forkfuls, like an

asshole. She watched Coralyn’s face and saw how her words

wounded her like a quick cut from a blade she hadn’t seen in

the dark because she was focused on the light in the distance.

“Why?” She closed her eyes in silent delight over another

mouthful of potatoes. She’d gone heavy with the gravy. Even

that was good, and normally, Giana was shit with making

gravy. Normally, she was shit with all of this, but she’d tried.

She’d really fucking tried tonight. “Because predictable isn’t

safe, it’s boring?”

“Because this isn’t a dependable pattern.” It wasn’t going to

last. It wasn’t permanent. This wasn’t who they really were,

and it was going to end.

“I guess we should talk about something else, then,”

Coralyn volunteered. Her eyes shone, like she knew Giana’s

heart wasn’t really in being mean. Like she could read her. Her

gaze burned into Giana when she ducked her head.

“I find eating in silence to be a real joy,” she protested to

her plate.