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Summary
“It’s a bit strange,” Thomas warns. A drop of melted ice water rolls down his nose, and he wipes it away. “I understand if you can’t talk about it.”
Aldo frowns, anxiety gnawing at him. Is the cancer back? Is Thomas’ brother sick? “Christ, Thomas, what is it? Is someone dead?”
Thomas seems to steel himself, then says, “I don’t know how to fornicate. I need your help.”
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Or, three nights in Aldo Bellini's apartment.