{GIANNA}
I jolt awake, blinking groggily as I glance around the room. My brain lags, stuck somewhere between sleep and reality. A couple of textbooks are flipped open on the desk in front of me, one page smeared with a suspicious wet patch that screams drool.
Ugh.
I quickly swipe at my mouth and the dampened page.
Under the soft glow of the desk lamp, my wedding ring twinkles, catching my eye. But it's not just the jewelry that holds my attention—it's the lines of ink peeking from beneath it. I shift the ring slightly, and my heart gives a stupid little pitter at the sight of Michael's claim on me.
The tattoo.
