"Iris, I just hope you take care of your health."
"I'm fine now..." She shook her head, "I'm fine now. I don't need those things—"
She felt the heart she had slowly approached suddenly shrink back violently.
Her heart tightened into a ball, and she couldn't tell if it was pain or fear. That feeling of freedom being controlled by him was truly desperate.
She suddenly realized a fact—so long as she stayed by his side, they could never be equal.
The gaps between their identities and personal consciousness were so glaringly persistent between them, constantly reminding her of what this man might do to her.
If someone's love requires you to exchange your dignity and freedom, would you accept it?
He can treat you very, very well, but you will never be able to control yourself. He won't care about your desires; he'll only manipulate you according to his preferences—
Would you accept it?
Iris thought she might never be able to accept this fact.
