Summary
My wife was blind.
Sweet-tempered. Softhearted.
I always loved it when tears spilled from the corners of his eyes and he begged me in that hoarse, tearful voice.
He was just a blind boy a wealthy family had brought home for an arranged marriage. Of course he was supposed to spoil me, put up with me, and give me everything I wanted.
Then he jumped from the top floor without a moment’s hesitation.
A few days later, I followed him.
When I opened my eyes again, I was eighteen.