MIREYA MOREAUAfter she left, I sat very still while his breath warmed the collar I’d buttoned so carefully, right over the mark I was hiding. My pulse was hammering in that exact spot, and I was fairly sure he’d feel it if he woke up. I allowed myself one look at the lines around his eyes and the way his jaw had finally relaxed, then turned firmly to the window and pretended I couldn’t hear my own heart.He woke somewhere over the Atlantic, and I knew it because his breath caught and he went rigid.“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting up so fast I thought he’d crack his neck. “I didn’t mean to—how long—”“Two hours.”“You should have woken me.”“You looked tired.” I shrugged and by now his ears had gone red.“Your shoulder must be numb,” he said, to the seat in front of him.“It’s fine.” I rolled it once and winced and he watched me while flexing his jaw, with a concentrated calm that made me feel nervous.“Mireya. About last night.” He began and my heart climbed into my throat and set up
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