Wrong Marriage and Sweet Love

She had once changed the password in a fit of anger. But again, because she could not always remember the new password and found it inconvenient, she changed it back.

“Joyce, why do I know the password to your apartment? What does the number mean?” Luther looked around the room. Inside the decoration was simple and refreshing, neat and clean. Although there was not much furniture, it felt warm all over.

“The password is my birthday.” Joyce replied, “Please hurry up, this is my personal space.”

Luther paced in, struggling to look for parts of his broken memories. When he got into this room, he felt it both strange and familiar. Why exactly?Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“What’s the hurry? Not even a cup of tea? Is this your way of hospitality?”

Joyce rolled her eyes, turned, and walked into the kitchen and made him a cup of green tea. She raised her voice towards the outside of the kitchen and shouted, “There’s no tea, only tea bags, you’ll just have to drink it!”

The apartment was small with only one room, and Luther walked around the apartment.

He saw with a sharp eye that in the otherwise clean trash can there were nothing but some brand new toothbrushes and toothpaste, razors as well as shaving cream.

Why would she keep such things in her apartment?

When Joyce walked out, she saw Luther bending down to pick up from the trash can.

Her brain snapped to attention before she recalled that the night of Luther’s accident, she had thrown the things she had originally purchased for him into the trash in a fit of anger. Afterward, she just forgot about it. The razor, shaving cream, and so on remained in the empty trash can.

“These things are for men. Why do you have them in your apartment?” Luther questioned unhappily. These things were still brand-name, only available in specialty stores, and he usually used them when he was on business trips.

Joyce put the teacup down in her hand and snatched the trash can out of his hand.

“It has nothing to do with you, and it’s none of your business. Drink your tea and hurry up and get out of here when you’re done.”

Luther kept staring at the trash can suspiciously, “You and Justin are already living together?” Immediately he shook his head. If she was living with Justin, Justin would not have left just now but gone upstairs with her.

“Nope. Don’t talk nonsense.”

Joyce denied it.

“Where did these things come from?” Luther pursued. He suddenly had a peculiar feeling. Since they were all brands he usually used, did she buy them for him to use? Why would she throw them straight away then?

“I used to live here?” He suddenly asked.

Joyce almost choked, she “coughed” a few times, embarrassed to avoid his topic, “You can really go.”

Luther opened the door to her room undeterred, always feeling that something was fishy.

Joyce couldn’t stop him, so she just let him barge in.

The bed was narrow, with soft curtains, and the quilt was not folded but spread out on the bed.

Suddenly, some images seemed to cross his mind, so fast that he could not catch them. The pain followed, he hurriedly pressed his temples with one hand, his legs stumbled forward and he fell.

Joyce had no idea what happened and tried to stop him, but he dragged her down with him.

Unbalanced, the two then fell into the soft bed together.

He subconsciously wrapped his arms around her, so that she would fall on her back. When they got to the bed, his lips covered her soft lips precisely…