A woman who betrayed her husband, a husband who refused to let go, and a love that neither of them wanted to admit.
She is the Dark Lord's most trusted wife and the only secret he has not seen through.
Late at night, she walks across the valley to hold a child that shouldn't exist.
Late at night, he touched the cold sheets next to him and held the corner of the fabric in his hands all night long.
They both thought the other didn't know.
They both knew the other was lying.
"I am your husband."
"I know."
——But so what. Love is possession, love is concealment, love is poisoning every glass of tranquilizer but never drinking it, love is knowing she is betraying but still turning off the porch light for her.
This is a story about dampness, coldness, and hesitation to speak.
The two people love each other very much, but they are suspicious of each other.
No one said anything, no one left.
It's a short story, I'll probably finish it before the end of the summer vacation.
Concept: When love turns into possession, betrayal becomes a kind of protection.