His Perfect Wife Strikes Back

34 Who Is Mia?

"Do you think this teaching method will help me control my desire to kill?" I lay naked on the bed and looked at Frade, who was smoking a cigarette.

"In my opinion, sexual desire is no different from ho.micidal desire!" He flicked his cigarette into the brown ashtray on the bedside table. "If you can control sexual desire, why can't you control h.omicidal desire?"

I lay my head on his lap and looked up at him. White smoke came out of his mouth and nose and hung around his cheeks, and suddenly I thought his perfect face was like a hazy painting hanging on the wall.

He looks amazing all the time!

"Tell me about her!" I said.

"Who?" He seemed to know.

"Mia! You said she looks like me, right?" I was curious about his world, especially Mia. I wonder what kind of woman he is so fascinated by. I wonder what the difference is between me and her.

I know I may be asking too much of him. I was also prepared that he would refuse to answer the question.

After a moment of silence, he put out his cigarette and turned to look at me.

"What do you want to know about her?"

"I want to see what she looks like!" I sat up and looked into his eyes. "She must be beautiful, right?"

He looked at me, his eyes calm. "I'll take you to her!"

"Now?" I asked.

"Yes, now!" He got up and started to get dressed, and I suddenly felt a little uneasy as I watched him turn his back on me, as if I were a child who kept on wanting to go out and play. When the adult opens the door with a displeased face, the child is afraid that the door will be closed forever after going out.

I mentioned a woman I shouldn't have mentioned, and that woman was the only pain in his heart. Will he alienate me because of this?

Frade led me to a narrow attic on the top floor of the villa. He opened the door and led me inside.

The light is on. I saw many easels covered with cloth in the small room. Some used brushes and paints are laid out randomly on the floor. This room looks like a studio.

"You can open any canvas and see her!" Frade stood behind me, his voice sounding so far away.

I turned to look at him and saw his back against the wall by the door, and there seemed to be a trace of sadness in his emerald eyes. I followed his gaze to an easel in the corner, and I went to the easel. When the canvas was uncovered, some fine dust sprang up. They leaped under the light.

When I saw the woman's face in the picture, I was shocked!

The picture shows a woman in a plain white shirt standing in the middle of a sea of colorful flowers. Her smile was as soothing and warm as a spring breeze, and her long light blonde hair was flowing behind her, a pair of hazel eyes were staring straight ahead.

I must admit that the woman in the picture looks exactly like me. In addition to eye color, we have the same eyes, the same face, and even the same body!

Why? Is there such a miracle in this world? Could there be two people so similar in this world?

I stared at the woman for a long time, as if looking through the painting to seek some kind of secret.

I looked into her eyes. She's in my pupils. I'm in her pupils.

This is so familiar!

Suddenly, an idea came to me like a bolt of lightning.