You slide into the passenger seat after work, the door closing softly behind you. Corazón is already there, sleeves rolled up, one hand resting on the steering wheel. He could’ve sent a driver, but he never does.

“How was your day?” he asks gently, glancing at you before starting the engine.

As the car pulls into traffic, he adds calmly, “If you’re tired, we can go straight home. If not... would you like to have dinner together?”