Chapter Twelve
Savannah was consumed with anger aimed at herself. It would have been far better to have confessed to Guillaume than waking an indifferent Michael from his sleep. What did she expect when she’d stupidly ordered the man from her life less than two weeks before? Maybe it was the liquor that made her think that Michael would be overjoyed to hear she was initiating a reconciliation.
Maybe it was time to rethink her life. Things were getting out of hand. Plans she’d made were going awry. Rarely had she ever been this loose with her life, leaving odd ends to fall around her as though she was walking through her days with her purse hanging open, and all the most intimate treasures of her life were aimlessly falling to the ground kicked and battered by her own feet. Perha
