Third Wedding, Right Groom
When I finally met her, I understood why Miles was so protective.
Valeria was twenty-two, heartbreakingly beautiful in that delicate, ethereal way that made people want to shield her from the world. She had long dark hair that fell in natural waves past her shoulders, porcelain skin that looked like she'd never seen the sun, and these wide, innocent hazel eyes that seemed perpetually on the verge of tears. She was petite, almost fragile-looking, the kind of woman who made men instinctively want to protect her.
She was also, I would later learn, a master manipulator who'd spent years perfecting the art of playing the victim.
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