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Summary
He’s worked so hard to cover up every pressed-in bruise, every smear of come and saliva and sweat, every crumpled bedsheet, every glance at Henry’s divine hands, every quiet exhale that threatens when Henry enters a room or gives him a knowing smile across the dinner table.
Paid a toll in literal and figurative blood.
Paid it gladly.
And now it’s all for nothing?
Series
- Part 9 of Hold my tongue