She was unwilling to drink the glass spiked with god knows what, fearing it might forever rob her of the chance to bear children. Even if she were to lose her memory, with the child gone, Mu Liang would live a life full of guilt and pain.
She would forever live within a web of lies, letting Mu Liang bear all the suffering, the heartache, the despair alone, while she, oblivious, would bask in happiness without knowing the sorrow in his heart.
What kind of marriage was this?
"I'll count to three for you to decide," Mu Liang stated, spinning the cylinder of the gun, disarming the safety. Qiao Xia's heart lurched, her mind felt vacant, yet she could still hear Mu Liang's voice.
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
Qiao Xia's voice was sharp, "Don't shoot!"
Please, don't shoot.
With a one-in-six chance, who knew if this round would have a bullet or not? What if there really was a bullet?
