A wife learns that her husband who's in coma had an affair. She confronts the other woman but instead finds solace in her. She then realizes she's falling for her husband's mistress.
We meet, we get to know each other, we fall in love; we kiss, we embrace, we get physical, and we enjoy the moment, but does it mean that we really have each other? Is it possible that all kinds of desires, both physical and abstract, can make a difference in a relationship? Because even though I love you, I still think of others.