My father always suggested that one mustn’t speak in rage, which was why I had come into my bedroom without saying a word to Tobias. He, however, failed to understand the eminence of silence, which was why he kept knocking on my door, begging me to open the door.
“I can’t talk to you right now. Give me some space,” I demanded him to leave, as I knew another chaotic confrontation with my husband could have the potential of further destroying things in our relationship. “I will come out once I feel better.”
Disregarding my desire to be left alone, my husband promises, “I won’t get mad at you. I just want to have another shot at a conversation about what has transpired in the last couple of hours, because I am now beginning to regret my decisions.”
Tobias, having been brought up in a hou
