THE HONEYMOON.
Giordana.
"Giordana, Giordana!" I heard. I tried to decipher if it was just my dream or reality.
ALONE.Giordana."Giordana," The smooth masculine voice that had become my worst nightmare called.
WHAT DID YOU MARRY ME FOR?Giordana.
NO MATTER WHAT.Philip.'What did you marry me for?'
REALITY.Giordana.
THE PARTY.Giordana.
DRUNKEN MISTAKE.Giordana."Hi, Phil." I heard a sickly sweet voice from behind us.
ASHAMED.Giordana.
GUILT.Giordana.He sat on the couch, staring at me in anticipation. Meanwhile, I was having an internal battle on how to start the conversation.