The scar had been there for several years, faded and old, the color had paled, yet looking at it still made her feel an ache in her heart.
Her husband in bed gently turned over.
She hurriedly withdrew her hand.
Quietly turning around, she pressed her face into the pillow and under the moonlight coming in through the window, she took off her glasses to look closely at her husband's face for the first time.
Eyebrows, nose, mouth—each feature was so distinctive, the slightly upturned edges fully demonstrating the pride and untamed nature of a favored son of heaven.
Trembling, her fingertips quivered gently as if she were afraid of inadvertently breaking something delicate.
Feeling an uneasiness inside, she got up and walked out to the hallway, where she found a public payphone.
Her fingers hesitated for a long time before she finally dialed the number that she had never called before.
