My first encounter with Adams was on the streets of London.
While taking a walk, I accidentally walked into his shot, and he exchanged contact information with me under the pretext of sending the photos.
From then on, he remained silent in my SnapChat list.
Unexpectedly, after work, I met him again at a photography exhibition, and he began to pursue me aggressively.
Sending flowers, gifts, taking all kinds of photos for me, making me feel loved for the first time.
The years we were together were the happiest days of my life.
I believed in him and his plans for our future.
In the fifth year together, I unexpectedly got pregnant with Irene.
He proposed to me immediately after finding out, and we hastily organized a wedding.
After getting pregnant, his meticulous care filled me with hope for the future.
When I came out of the operating room, he cried more fiercely than I did.
He held me tightly and kept repeating in my ear:
"Thank you, honey, I love you, I really love you so much. I will definitely treat you and our daughter well in the future."
My heart was so tender that the pain after childbirth seemed to be soothed by him.
Since Irene was born, he worked even harder, almost pushing himself to be an unceasing top.
His stomach wasn't good, so I cooked and delivered meals to him every day.
My life gradually filled with the trivialities of daily life, but I was still happy.
He needed more professional equipment for photography, so I earned money to buy him a better camera.
I believed he loved me and that he would succeed.
