even for that one moment that she’d promised she’d give
anything for. Time didn’t change anything either. The only
thing time did was cause festering wounds to get more
infected.
“When you say things like that, it’s astounding,” Giana said,
her voice wooden.
“Why? Because people don’t say that kind of thing, or
because you thi
nk I should keep it all in my head because
that’s the proper thing to do, or because when I say those
things, it makes you feel less like you’re going insane because
other people have the same thoughts as you and maybe it’s
possible to breathe again?”
Giana’s fork clattered from her fingers, striking the edge of
her plate before settling on the table. “Have you ever thought
about seeing someone?” It was harsh. Mean.
Coralyn ignored the edge in her tone and shook her head.
“No. I did think about talking to someone online. Maybe. But
you didn’t.”
“No. I didn’t. You’re not me.”
“Are you saying it would have helped you if you had done it
when it mattered?”
It still mattered. “I don’t know. I can’t speculate.”
“Well, this is a depressing conversation.”
Giana felt a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her
lips. She bit down instead, refusing to let it show. “What
should we talk about, then? Oh, I know. We can talk about
your work. Or mine. I’ve been going back now for a few days,
but you probably already know that.”
Giana did. She still had her guy watching out for Coralyn,