The door slammed and the husband stormed into the bedroom. He was angry and irritated.

— “Take off the bandages and get to the kitchen!” he said. “My mother and sister have arrived, make something for them. What kind of housewife are you, just lying here doing nothing.”

— “But you know I can’t get up. Maybe you could make something yourself, I’m really in pain.”

— “I don’t care. Why did I even get married if my wife can’t even cook?”

The woman barely held back her tears. She didn’t have time to answer — new footsteps were heard in the hallway.