Maybe she was drunk, or they were both drunk. She was 8 years older than him, but she was his "mother".
She once thought that her heart had dried up in the car accident 10 years ago. She loves, she mourns, she atones. She married a man who was more than ten years older than her, and she thought that as long as she lived the rest of her life well, she would be fine.
But the ordinary life finally made waves.
The man was leaning against the door of the study, with the golden sunset behind him. His face was buried in the darkness, and his pupils were dark and deep without any trace of color. He was tall and tall, with a slim figure. He was wearing a casual shirt with an open collar and sleeves rolled up to his arms. He had just exercised and his lazy figure was leaning against the door. He was sexy and sultry, with a cold and malicious air. Maybe it was her imagination. There was a smile on his lips as he looked at her: "Sister?" He narrowed his eyes, "Should I call you mom."
That may not be waves, but what kind of storm is underneath the waves...