Terence's Beloved

When Esther returned to the bedroom, she lay back on the bed, feeling even more irritated than earlier.

The image of that lady in the picture came to her again.

Who on earth was that lady? How was Terence so obsessed with her? What was more, he looked so angry and frightening, when he saw her staring at the painting.

She closed her eyes, trying her best to empty what didn't matter out of her head.

No matter who that woman was, she had been a painting on the wall as well as the history for Terence. So she didn't need to care about her, did she?

Esther finally fell asleep, but she was uneasy even in her dream. She was clutching the quilt tightly while writhing from time to time. Besides, a layer of fine sweat was even oozing from her forehead.