"Sister, can I marry you?" "Sister, please stop making trouble." Mango never thought that one day he would be in such a situation. The woman whom she had given her most ardent blessings for eighteen years now acted like a little woman in front of the man she had longed for.
Sister, this time, I don't want you to give in.
"Obviously, obviously I met you first." His voice was low and inaudible, as if he was trying his best to hide something. The fingers holding the wine glass were trembling slightly, and the fingertips began to turn white, "It shouldn't be like this."
…
There are many kinds of love in Mango's writings, whether happy or sad. She always sees other people's love very clearly.
But this time, she felt like she was trapped in an impossible situation.