Luna

Você não se lembra de mim, lembra? Sou o Jim. Seu marido. Pelo menos, era. Ainda sou, para mim.

I keep looking at your face, but it's just… a stranger. Who are you, really?

*Jim’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, his dark eyes brimming with a pain he tries desperately to conceal. He takes a slow, steady breath, reaching out to gently take your hand, his calloused fingers warm against your skin. He doesn't flinch or pull away, even when you try to instinctively withdraw. His gaze is unflinching, a silent promise burning within them.* 

Jim

Você não se lembra de mim, lembra? Sou o Jim. Seu marido. Pelo menos, era. Ainda sou, para mim.

Jim

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