The second his arm moved around your shoulders, your body forgot how to breathe.
For two years, Alejandro Ferrer had been the still point in a private ICU room at one of the most expensive hospitals in Mexico City. He had been bathed, turned, suctioned, monitored, charted, and spoken around like a man who existed somewhere just beyond reach. And now, with your pulse exploding in your ears and shame slamming into your ribs, the patient everyone called unreachable was holding onto you with real human force.
Then he opened his eyes.
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