He once held her hand and promised to stay with her forever. Three months after their marriage, it was too late to even look at her.
On the day she became pregnant, he handed over the surgery slip: "Signed."
"Why?"
"I married you for your family property." He lit a cigarette, and the smoke blurred all the tenderness. "That's why I didn't divorce you. I've had enough."
Later, a fire broke out and thick smoke engulfed the entire floor.
She was lying on the window, the flames licking the hem of her skirt. He was downstairs with another woman in his arms.
When their eyes met, he buried his face in his mistress's neck.
Later she came back alive, but he died—in an accidental fire.
She stood in front of his grave and whispered: "You are right, never leave, it is true."
