A severe childhood fever had ravaged Cynthia Parra's brain, permanently trapping her cognitive abilities in a state of childlike innocence. She simply couldn't understand the complex, twisted games of the adult world. That night, she pushed open the door of a private bar lounge. The first thing she saw was her husband, Russell Shelton. He was kissing his secretary, Jessica Galvan. Cheers exploded around the room. Cynthia froze. Her fingers twisted nervously in the hem of her dress as she stood there for a long moment. Finally, she spoke in a soft, uncertain voice, "You're my husband... You're not supposed to kiss other people." The room fell silent so quickly that the hum of the air conditioner became audible. Jessica recovered first. She flashed a quick smile. "Oh, Cynthia, don't misunderstand. We're playing Truth or Dare. Russell just happened to draw that one." Russell frowned, impatience creeping into his tone. "You're not seriously upset about a game, are you?" Cynthia pressed her lips together and hurriedly shook her head. "No, no... It's just a game. I understand. Games don't count." Even if it hurt a little, games had rules. And rules had to be followed. Someone nearby snorted with barely suppressed laughter. Several people exchanged knowing looks. 'God, she really is stupid.' The next round of the game began. Cynthia drew a card. Her dare read: Kiss the most handsome man in the room. Russell's expression instantly darkened. He had never liked showing affection toward Cynthia in public. Now he just wanted the moment over with. "Hurry up," he said impatiently. But Cynthia didn't even glance at him. Before anyone could react, she had already walked over to a young man at the neighboring table. She said something quietly to him. Then she leaned forward and kissed him. When she returned to her seat, her eyes sparkled. "I did it!" she said proudly, looking at Russell. "Was I brave?" A collective, suppressed gasp echoed through the room. "Holy shit... That's a real dare." Russell shot to his feet. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room. "What the hell was that?" He snapped. "You're my wife! Do you know how embarrassing that was?" Cynthia stumbled after him, confused. "But... Weren't we playing a game?" His sudden anger frightened her. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Russell opened his mouth, then stopped. His face flushed with anger and embarrassment. "You don't get it!" he said harshly. "You're an i***t. You can't just do something like that!" The word i***t twisted like a rusted blade in Cynthia's heart. Her body trembled uncontrollably. She didn't understand what she had done wrong. She only knew he looked at her with pure disgust. "Am I too stupid...? Do I embarrass you?" She lowered her head. "If that's the case... Then maybe we should separate." Cynthia had always been painfully sensitive to rejection. Ever since she had become different, people laughed at her, mocked her, and bullied her. Russell had always stepped in front of her. He had always said gently, "You're not stupid. You're just purer than everyone else." She remembered his worn-out sneakers. She remembered the patched shirts he used to wear. She remembered the shocked look on his face when she bought him new clothes. "I don't know why..." she had once told him shyly. "But I want to be good to you."