“You’ll give my parents the money, and you can sit at home with your little dream,” my husband said. He thought I’d swallow it in silence
“My parents will finish the dacha, and your little cakes can wait.” I looked at my husband and didn’t recognize him. Seven years of marriage, thousands of shared dinners, dreams we once spoke about like they were already real—gone in a single moment. He said it as casually as if he were asking me […]
Продолжение...