That summer rain made us meet. After the two lines intersected, we should move forward without looking back. You are not my hero, and I am not your heroine. I thought we were just passers-by, but I didn't expect you to stay in my life longer than anyone else.
At the class reunion ten years later, we announced to everyone that we were married. Is your marriage happy? The two didn't speak, just looked at each other and smiled.
There is a shortage of literature. I want to read hypocritical writing, so I write it myself. (Third person perspective, the male protagonist is three years older than the female protagonist.)
Intention: A hypocritical love that even you love her and I can't love him.