Two years after the divorce, I moved into my ex-wife's sister's villa. She took me in with nothing and taught me how to survive in this city.
I call her sister, but I hide a dangerous secret in my heart. During the day, I work as a receptionist at a gym, dealing with rich women and clients, walking on the edge of the cliff between money and desire. At night, I returned to the empty villa and watched her drinking and crying alone under the moonlight.
I know we all carry wounds from the past. Her broken marriage, my youth that ended hastily. Until that night when I was drunk, she held my hand and said, "Don't leave." Until I put on a mask of flattery for my performance, she said with red eyes, "Don't get yourself dirty."
It wasn't until she was hospitalized after a fall and I held her cold hand that I realized that once some lines are crossed, there is no going back. This is the mutual redemption of two lonely souls, and it is also a dangerous game of sobriety and sinking. When the past is revealed and reality hits, how can I keep the last clean place in my heart? And can she wait until the future that truly belongs to us? The edge of taboo, how serious are you? Lost in the city, why call home? Where will this fate that began with adoption, this love mixed with guilt, dependence and taboo attraction lead us? Should I sink and climb in the dye vat of the city, or should I protect the last inch of clean soil in my heart and find true salvation with her? This is a dangerous dance on a moral tightrope, and a difficult choice about the bottom line, dignity and true love.
