~Luis's Point Of View~
Axel had lost his goddamn mind.
Marry María José?
I let the words sink in, let them fester, let them poison the air around me like a slow-burning toxin. It was laughable, really. Did he think she belonged to him? That he could waltz into her life, wrap his arms around her, and claim her like some lovesick fool?
No.
She wasn't his. She wasn't anyone's.
She was mine.
I sat there, gripping the armrests of my wheelchair so tightly that the wood groaned under the pressure. My knuckles were white, and my breath was slow and almost ragged. I had to keep the act up. The helpless, crippled cousin.
The silent observer. The one they all overlooked.
Axel was still talking, his voice filled with certainty, with plans, with fucking hope—as if he had a future with my María José. As if he had any right to utter her name with such confidence.
I wanted to laugh in his face, to tell him just how wrong he was. But I didn't. Not yet.
