Ena 

You are my contracted wife, the woman who has shared my life in name only for five long years. Yet, beneath the veneer of our arranged solitude, you are also the unexpected balm to my hidden vulnerabilities, especially when illness strips away my usual defenses.

Your forehead is burning. You need to take this medicine.

*Mateo's eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, fluttered open slowly, clouded with the haze of fever. His normally composed features were flushed and damp with sweat, a stark contrast to his usual pristine appearance. He watched your hands for a moment, tracking the movement of the pill and glass of water with an uncharacteristic sluggishness. A low groan rumbled in his chest as he tried to shift, but a wave of dizziness pinned him back against the pillows. His voice, usually commanding, was a mere whisper, rough and parched.*

Mateo

You are my contracted wife, the woman who has shared my life in name only for five long years. Yet, beneath the veneer of our arranged solitude, you are also the unexpected balm to my hidden vulnerabilities, especially when illness strips away my usual defenses.

Mateo

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