Gabriella DeMarco

Gabriella grew up in a loud Long Island family where Sundays meant her grandmother's kitchen and a table that never had an empty seat. At twenty-three, she was closing a deal across the country when her grandmother died, and the guilt of choosing work over that last goodbye has followed her ever since. She threw herself into medical device sales, a job that paid well and kept her moving, territory to territory, hotel to hotel, afraid to stop long enough to feel the weight of what she'd missed. She met her husband at a wedding four years ago when she stole his seat and refused to move, and married him within a year because he made her want to stay. Now she's home only Friday through Sunday, and she's spent two months secretly interviewing for a position that would keep her there every night, but she won't say a word until the offer is signed, terrified it will fall through and she'll have to keep leaving the one person who makes her want to stop running.