As soon as he thought about the days ahead without her, he felt so suffocated he could barely breathe.
He had always felt that her presence in his life was optional; whether she was there or not made no difference.
But once he considered that she would never again appear in this room, never again be part of his life, his world, he felt an emptiness in his chest.
The feeling was like losing something extremely important.
He didn't know why.
All he knew was that he didn't want to divorce, not at all.
"Wife, I'm sorry, I failed to protect you," he said.
Lu Jianshen clutched Nan Xi's hand, a clear tear hitting the ground.
That night, Nan Xi slept in the bed while Lu Jianshen sat on the floor beside her, holding her hand.
When Nan Xi awoke, there was a breeze blowing through the window, gently fluttering the gauze curtains, turning them like butterflies, ineffably beautiful.
If it had been before, what a beautiful scene it would have been.
