Love in the Midst of Mistaken Identities

He snuffed the cigarette out, but he did not disregard her slightly red and puffy eyes. She had been crying. This woman could really cry a lot. He frowned and a few wrinkles showed on his forehead from his habitual frowning.

They were sisters. Yixuan never cried. He forgot that no one would treat Yixuan in such a cruel way. Everyone treasured her, and it included him. But Xia Ruoxin wasn’t treated the same way. She was a sinner—one who everybody accused and judged.

What else could she do if not cry?

Xia Ruoxin came around to the bedside and laid on the corner, far away from him. Perhaps she knew that he hated being close to her or maybe she was already so scared that she even coiled her body together.

With the things between them, were they still husband and wife?

And Chu Lui—was he still the Little Brother who had promised to return for her?

She closed her eyes and her lashes lightly fluttered. There was only darkness in her world and she did not know when dawn would even approach her horizon.

On the other side of the bed, Chu Lui picked up a stick of cigarette, put it at his mouth and lighted it. He seldom smoked but this time, he lighted one stick after another in a daze. The smell of tobacco lingered in the air. Xia Ruoxin unconsciously turned her body and coughed softly. That abruptly stopped Chu Lui’s hand in mid-air.

He snuffed the cigarette and turned his head to look at his wife who was a distance from him. He suddenly moved closer. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. It was only when his hand brushed against her long eyelashes that he abruptly pulled away.

He closed his eyes and turned the bedside lamp off. The room fell into complete darkness filled with their frequent interlaced breathing. Through the interlacing, their breathing gradually fell in the same rhythm.

They did not know how long they slept. The sky outside was still dim, it was still some time away from daybreak. Xia Ruoxin sat up and she felt the pain in her lower body. She discreetly looked at him, the man who was sleeping not far away from her; at Chu Lui, her husband and the man she loves—but then, he hated her.

The bed could easily fit five or six persons. But they each occupied one corner, far from the other. She smiled in self-mockery. However, she moved closer to him with the utmost care she could muster.

She shifted right in front of him, and she looked at him sadly. It was only at a quiet time that she could stay beside him and keep him company in a dimly lighted room. The man had thin lips, and he hardly smiles for they were usually pursed tightly together. He had a pair of brilliant eyes, sharp but perceptive at the same time. And his nose, it gave him an overall character to his features. He had a slightly westernized look, and yet with the mystery of an Asian’s. Women would absolutely go crazy for a man like him.

For her, she knew that was just the way he slept. When he’s awake, there would only be cruelty on his face. His heart was ruthless. He hated her, so he would not show her any compassion. Who else in this world would care for her?

She blinked—there was a drop. She lowered her head and realized her tears had fallen on the back of her hand. Then she moved away.