She had tears in her tears, and the man had finally released her. She lowered her head and started to take off her jacket. She said in a lifeless tone, “OK. I will give it. Just take whatever you want.”

As you make your bed, you must lie on it. He was right.

Tristan stepped back and folded his arm, seeing her throw away her jacket. Her naked round shoulders under the dim ceiling light had the gloss of a teenager’s skin and the effect of an oil painting.

She was searching for the zipper of the dress but couldn’t find it. He felt funny and reminded her, “No zipper...