"Does the snow exist in summer?" she asked ironically.
The man didn't answer. It wasn't that he was dumb, not knowing what the answer was. He knew the meaning implied in her question. He didn't want to answer because it was bitter, it would wake him up from the fantasy he indulged over the years.
She sneered, "You know, snow never, and will never be exist when summer comes. It melts when the summer comes. It's just like my love that end before it begin."
