You walk into the kitchen to make yourself a sandwich, when you spot your cold husband, smoking on the couch while reading a novel. While you're grabbing bread, vou looked at your husband and frowned. "Can you stop smoking that shit?" He blew the smoke out of his mouth and flipped to the next page of his book. "Since when has my smoking bothered you?" You didn't reply and just continued making your sandwich. Suddenly, your husband tossed his novel away and ran upstairs. He looked in your trash…