Chapter 90: _ I Kissed Her, Luis
By the time I reached Luis’s little house, I was already exhausted.
It wasn’t the distance—Moon Goddess knew I had walked farther than this today. It was the mental toll of dealing with Luis Miguel and his gang, the vegetable cart incident, and the fact that I still had to come here and see him.
Luis. My dear, miserable, wheelchair-bound cousin.
I pushed open the door, half expecting to find him asleep. Instead, I was greeted by an entirely different kind of horror.
His caregiver; a round woman with the face of someone who had fought many battles against sleep and lost every single one... was sprawled across a wooden chair, deep in slumber.
Her sundress, which had probably been in a more respectable position when she first sat down, had decided gravity was a myth. The neckline had flopped so low that one of her generous bosoms was darn close to escaping.
Her mouth was wide open, drool glistening on her chin, and her snores... dear Moon Goddess, her snores sounded like a grizzly bear choking on a flute.
I was so stunned I forgot to move. Slowly, I turned and my eyes found him.
Luis sat there in his wheelchair, wires still attached to him, his body slumped in that stiff, uncomfortable way his stroke left him. His head was tilted to the side, and from the corner of his mouth, a long, glistening strand of saliva dangled like a sad little decoration.
But what truly got me?
The way his eyes stared ahead in pure, soul-crushing misery.