Her love is no longer guarded.

When she married him, her hatred was not yet full of holes. Love had once consumed all her passion, and this was already a betrayal; her heart was like ashes. As time passed and she remained single, the thoughts of being alone were gradually erased by the mediocre yet happy couples around her. An ordinary electrical engineer was introduced to her by a colleague - honest, unremarkable, and steady as a flame.

They went on calm highland dates, met each other's parents, bought a house, and arranged their home. The new house was entirely managed by him, and she took a long time to understand it. He was considerate and gentle. He said, "This is your home; shouldn't there be something that makes you feel comfortable?" She chose emerald green window纱 (sheer fabric). Behind the emerald green window纱, she shed tears. He helplessly hugged her, but she broke free. His heart was pierced; she refused his embrace during her pain and shut him out.

They still got married. Every morning, she would come early to cook milk and toast bread for him. When she returned home late from work with a gentle smile, he still felt unable to get close to her. He didn’t ask further because he understood: hatred leaves the smallest space for the other party, a dampening of warmth at a certain point.

One day, her company required overtime, and she called to inform him. He simply replied with a "yes" and nothing more. Half an hour later, the security guard at her company called her down. He held a thermos, which contained hot congee. Crying, he said, "I've kept it warm for you. Your stomach isn't good, and you can't eat the boxed meals outside." He also handed over a sweater and an umbrella.

In the moment he turned back, his figure seemed like warm sunlight, shining into her heart.

By year's end, her company held a celebration banquet. Glass after glass, his stomach burned in pain, and then the pain reached his heart, burning intensely. Colleagues helped him return home, where he was drunk as mud, vomiting everywhere, lying on the floor, breathing heavily as he slept.

She pushed him hard, bringing clean clothes to help him change, and wiped his face with warm water. In the middle of the night, he continued to vomit repeatedly, and she served tea again and again. He fell asleep chaotically, but she became alarmed. Was his vomiting so severe that something serious might happen?

She remembered how her aunt once drank too much alcohol, leading to chronic gastric bleeding. By the time they got her to the hospital, it was too late. She also thought of a neighbor who drank excessively and eventually suffered from liver cirrhosis. All these bad outcomes flooded her thoughts, and she almost couldn’t sleep.

In the early morning when he woke up, everything was fine. Looking at her bloodshot eyes, he felt guilty and touched her hand, but she slapped it away, yelling at him wildly—more intensely than he had ever seen before. Tears streamed down her face. He was stunned, and after a moment, he cried, embracing her despite her resistance.

He knew that the distance between them had disappeared. Her heart no longer set boundaries against him. Mutual respect wasn't love; love was pain, throwing tantrums, being completely unreserved, being unreasonable, tears, and crying.