At the other end of the ivy that my husband and I clung to was our boss, Mr. Abe. If we let go, we would plummet instantly. He held onto that ivy. To keep his hand from letting go, I offered him my body. But by around the seventh day, it wasn't just about the body anymore. I couldn't bear to acknowledge myself as I writhed in genuine ecstasy while being embraced by Mr. Abe. Can you still love me like you used to…?
