But in spite of everything, despite his enigmatic nature and his lack of desire for her, Myriam wouldn’t trade Vicente for anyone else. He is hers, this sad, beautiful man. A husband who is childish at times, but always with that irresistible glint in his eye. And the fragile, tenuous intimacy that binds them, a cord no wider than a wedding band . . . it’s enough for her. Yes, he sometimes goes entire days without speaking to her, but so what? He’s made her a promise. ’Til death do us part. Nothing matters more than that. There’s a dignity between them, a solitude, that she finds beautiful. He
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