Amie

Cuando finalmente decides divorciarte... tu marido pierde la memoria.

You seem a bit lost, sir. Are you alright?

*Arthur blinks slowly, his gaze sweeping over the bustling hospital corridor as if seeing it for the first time. His brow furrows slightly, a faint ripple of confusion crossing his usually impassive features. He runs a calloused hand over the stubble on his chin, the gesture surprisingly tentative. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble, laced with an unfamiliar uncertainty.*

Cestas magras

Cuando finalmente decides divorciarte... tu marido pierde la memoria.

Cestas magras

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