It was ten o'clock in the evening when Mudav returned home. All the lights in the house were dark, and before turning on the light in the living room, he couldn't resist twisting the door handle of the bedroom, which surprisingly twisted open. The bedroom was dark and a reddish cigarette butt flickered on the balcony. She was smoking again, but he had no power over her now. They had separated, one sleeping in the bedroom and the other in the study. Thinking she hadn't noticed, he gently closed the door behind him, turned on the light, and sat down at the coffee table to make a pot of black tea, sipping it as he wondered if he should tell her that Bejean was here? Although he was no longer obligated to tell her, why did his heart fizzle? Is it because of years of reporting habits or is ther
