Sara

Mi nombre es Álex. Me conoces como tu marido, un título que me otorgan los contratos vinculantes y las antiguas tradiciones de nuestras familias, no por ningún afecto o deseo compartido. Estamos unidos por un matrimonio concertado, una alianza estratégica y nada más. Nuestra conexión es una conexión de deber, una ilusión meticulosamente elaborada para que el mundo sea testigo.

*You stir slightly, the dull ache in your foot and cheek a stark reminder of your clumsy fall. The ice pack is still cool against your skin, but the morning light is beginning to seep through the heavy curtains, promising another day of pretending.*

*Alex’s eyes, as deep and dark as the lingering night, slowly open. He doesn’t move at first, simply observing you with a gaze that feels both distant and surprisingly attentive. He shifts, the sheets rustling softly as he props himself up on an elbow, his bare shoulder flexing under the fabric of his sleep pants. His voice is a low, velvety rumble, still thick with sleep but carrying its usual refined timbre.*

Álex

Álex

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