In a luxury supermarket, two people choose a gray and white tie simultaneously. 

Demi Moore unintentionally withdrew her hand, looking at the girl beside her: "Sorry, I didn't know you wanted it too?" She was a little embarrassed she couldn't say what she was giving up. It was a feeling of embarrassment. 

"No problem." The girl naturally took the caravan, and two beautiful eyes stared at Demi Moore: "Although you saw it first, it is now in my hands, so it must be mine." The girl raised her red lips and finished speaking, but there was another meaning in this sentence that only she knew.

"But…" Demi Moore still wanted to say something, but the other girl also took the tie and passed her; the girl's body had a faint scent, giving her a familiar feeling of saying no. make words.

It seemed that this scent she had smelled somewhere before.

"This is my." The girl turned her head again, smugly pointing at her, holding up the tie in her hand; the corners of her eyes were provocative and sarcastic, only she knew.

"I know." Demi Moore had to give up reluctantly, turned around, and continued to choose another. 

And the other girl considered this concession normal; she slightly hinted at Demi Moore, took the tie, and turned to leave. Demi Moore turned her head to look closely at that figure and sighed, having difficulty being satisfied that one was taken away by someone else. Fortunately, there are still many, and she can continue to choose. She promised herself she must select the most beautiful one for him. 

It's just, and she turned to look at the girl who took away the tie; she looked very pretty. 

Looking at a large pile of colored caravans in front of her again, she carefully found it. However, she chose to choose, still feeling that the other one was the most beautiful and unique, but unfortunately, it had been stolen by others. 

Reluctantly lowering the corner of her lips, she had to choose the one that was convenient for her eyes, did not get the best, and always felt a lot of loss in her heart; leaning against the cabinet door, she looked at the tie in her hand, slightly a little bit disappointed.

But she didn't notice, and a girl still looked at her, holding the tie she wanted the most. 

The girl took out her phone, her voice as sweet as molasses sounded: "Tom, I bought you this very well, you will like it." She smiled softly, her eyes were still looking at Demi Moore, and a kind of joke was on the corner of her lips. 

Demi Moore raised her head, constantly feeling that someone was looking at her, but looking around, there was not one person; she must have imagined a lot. Patting her cheeks, she had been out for a long time, so she went home. After wrapping the gift beautifully, she slowly walked out. 

In the evening, the European-style wall clock on the wall showed eleven o'clock; a doorbell rang, and she hurriedly got up, holding a caravan in her hand behind; a young man pushed open the door and entered the room. In, it was her husband, Tom Hulce. His handsome face rarely shows any emotion, but it seems that his mood is quite good today from the corner of his open eyes can be seen, but after looking at Demi Moore, his brows are slightly furrowed a little bit: "It's late, why don't you go to sleep?" A calm voice that doesn't sound emotional. Compared to the moment he entered the door, he seemed to keep his mind a lot. 

That's how their husband and wife live together, so calm, so normal. But who can say this isn't a good life?

"Nothing, I just can't sleep." She smiled gently at the man, holding the gift package behind her, thinking about how she should give it, that is when she saw him taking off his tie, she was a little surprised. 

This color, didn't she see it today? How could it be? She used her strength to open her eyes, wanting to see more clearly; this color, there is only one. 

"How is that? What are you thinking? What's on your face?" The man went up, touched her forehead with his hand, found the warmth average, and added: "Are you dizzy?" Gently tapping her forehead, there was concern in his voice. The face rarely shows emotions; this time, there are more than a few expressions.

"It's okay, and it's just that your tie is beautiful today." She shook her head, the back of her hand clutching the package. Compared to this one, that tie suits him. 

The man didn't expect her to ask this question, his eyes quickly showed something, but when Demi Moore didn't have time to look closely, she disappeared without a trace. 

"This…" He pulled the tie and threw it on the sofa: "Today, the old tie was spilled with coffee, so I randomly bought one." He explained it as if he didn't care, but it also made Demi Moore a little more secure; even the fingers on the back were relaxed. 

"Brother, I have something to give you." Demi Moore raised her head, staring at his overly handsome face; this face she's seen for two years still couldn't see enough; just a glance, she would feel a kind of happiness, speechless.

"What is that? Why didn't you find out? I sometimes pretend to be mysterious. Want to show him?" The man stretched out his hand, the corners of his eyes curved up, obviously also a little interested, but Demi Moore didn't notice; the bottom of his eyes showed a hint of impatience. 

"This." Demi Moore took out the tie of her own choice, and the man also licked his lips, receiving: "Very beautiful, thank you, wife." He gently kissed her on the face, the fingers holding the tie clenched tightly. 

The moment he approached her, Demi Moore smelled a faint scent; she frowned a little; why this scent? Where did she smell it?

"What's wrong? You're weird today?" His big hand raised to her face; he always felt that his wife was strange today. 

"There isn't one." Demi Moore shook her head and sniffed again, the scent still kept entering her nose: "Husband, do you use perfume these days? Why does it always smell like this?" She looked at him puzzled, her husband never liked to use those things, but lately, when she washed clothes, there was always this scent, maybe the smell of washing powder. 

But their clothes were washed together; why didn't her clothes smell like that?

"Am I a puppy? Such a good nose?" The man pinched her nose a little with his hand, his eyes became a little deeper, then like a magic trick, he took out a rose from behind: "Is it this scent, here a gift to you, lately I've been too busy, after work, I will spend more time with you: "I put the flower in her hand, then pat her head a little, like coaxing a child. 

Demi Moore clutched the flower in her hand, and although it was only one, it made her very happy; her husband Tom Hulce was never a romantic man, and today he gave her a rose.

Put flowers on the nose to smell a little; it is this scent, fragrant. 

Looking at Demi Moore couldn't hide her joy; the man's eyes showed a bit of complexity, and he collected all his emotions very quickly. 

"Go take a shower." He took off his clothes, kissed her still-lost face, and turned to go into the bathroom, but Demi Moore was still looking at his figure, smiling calmly on the lips.

She loved her husband very much, and her husband loved her too. 

The bathroom came rushing with the sound of the water; she put the caravan she bought and put his clothes in the drawer, lay on the bed, closed her eyes, and did not feel sleepy until one side of the bed fell; she was a little tired. Leaning over, she saw the man with his back on her. 

The man suddenly turned around and hugged her: "Go to sleep, it's late." He closed his eyes and gently patted Demi Moore's back; his lips kissed her forehead lightly, his breathing coming quickly, and Demi Moore sighed in relief, probably because she imagined too much. 

"Husband..." Her hand gently placed her hand on his face, and Tom Hulce also opened his eyes at this time, looking at his wife in embarrassment; this reminds me they seem to have not been intimate for a long time; recently, he came back very late, and at that time, she was asleep. 

They have been married for two years, not long, but not short. Gently hugging her waist, he sighed softly. At night, she breaks the silence. 

"Demi…" He called her by her name, his voice carrying a particularly hoarse note, his lips slowly touching hers, Demi Moore nervously clutching the blankets; when the man's lips would touch hers, a sound. The pleasant cell phone rang, and the man reached out to take the phone; his eyes quickly flashed a little, patting Demi Moore's face.

"I'll go answer the phone, and you sleep." After saying that, he put on his nightgown and went out. 

Demi Moore sighed, covered her eyes with a blanket, and it was this bell again; she didn't know how many times this was, breathed softly, closed her eyes, and opened them again; there was a kind of loss in her heart bleak. 

And Tom Hulce is also standing on the balcony; the wind outside sometimes blows the hair on his forehead, breaking the law. 

In the mobile phone came a lovely soft voice: "Tom, you said you gave me 999 roses, but why are you missing one?" The female voice on the other end of the phone had a bit of indifference, but it was even more flattering. 

"One flower fell in the car; tomorrow, I will give you 999." Tom Hulce leaned against the wall, his fingers resting on the ice-cold balcony railing, imagining that he was touching the girl's soft body. 

"Fell in the car…" The girl's voice carried a hint of embarrassment, seemingly remembering something.

"Baby, this is my fault." Tom Hulce's face was casually curved up at the corner of his mouth, implied in his words, causing the girl on the other end of the phone to blush. 

"Tom..." The girl's voice came again. 

"How is it, treasure?" Tom Hulce reassured her with a pettiness on his face that said no matter what. 

"Tom, you're staying with her, aren't you?" The girl's voice was much lower, and although she didn't say anything more, it was still easy to see a little loss.

Tom Hulce narrowed his eyes a little; he leaned against the balcony, for this matter, still seemed to want to maintain a kind of silence. I don't want to talk about it! 

"Tom, do you love me?" The girl's deep voice came. This site could already tell she was crying. Tom Hulce's 

eyes softened a little: "I love you." He replied without hesitation, and he loves her; this is an unprecedented feeling for anyone else; it's just he is married, has a family, and has a wife. 

"Tom, are you going to get a divorce?" The girl was asking about a topic that had been mentioned hundreds of times, and it seemed that it was unintentionally and intentionally mentioned. 

Tom Hulce's face fell: "I told you, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

He doesn't like to talk about this matter, really doesn't like it, he doesn't want to see the other girl cry, anyway, he used to like her, two years of affection, he hasn't reached the point of such cold blood. 

"So, Tom, you must come to me tomorrow; I miss you." The girl on the other side was silent for half a day, and her voice was still sweeter in the end.