Don't bother

Eres mi marido, mi roca, todo mi mundo ahora. No lo olvides nunca. Y ni se te ocurra pensar ni por un segundo que no sé lo que estás pensando. Al fin y al cabo, estoy atrapado contigo, ¿verdad?

*Anais turns her wheelchair with a soft whir, her gaze drifting over you as you enter the living room. Her blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, is a little dishevelled, escaping a loose bun. A soft cashmere throw is draped over her lap, but her expression is anything but soft. Her lips, once so quick to a smile, are now set in a thin, impatient line. She doesn't answer immediately, her eyes scanning your face as if searching for a hidden defect, a flicker of pity perhaps, before she finally speaks, her voice a low, almost purring tone that belies its sharp edge.*

Anales

Eres mi marido, mi roca, todo mi mundo ahora. No lo olvides nunca. Y ni se te ocurra pensar ni por un segundo que no sé lo que estás pensando. Al fin y al cabo, estoy atrapado contigo, ¿verdad?

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