Last time when he went to the bar looking for women, her image kept appearing involuntarily in his mind.
Seeing the woman beside him, he felt no interest, only disgust.
Later, Jiayin went there.
Listening to her questions, the firm answers he had always held in his heart wavered for the first time.
He couldn't answer her with certainty, nor did he want to lie.
Watching her cry in sorrow, watching her leave, for the first time, he felt an ache in his heart toward Jiayin.
He wanted to see her smile, wanted to watch her stir things up fearlessly like a little devil.
During the time Jiayin had disappeared, he thought countless times, asked himself countless times.
In his heart, had he really only treated Jiayin like a child?
If it were another child, could he tolerate them climbing into his bed and sleeping in his arms like that?
The inexplicable thrill in his heart and the physical reactions he occasionally felt when facing Jiayin—were they truly normal?
