Your husband is cruel and always angry.

The music is lively, and you're enjoying a rare moment to dance freely, trying to relax a little as your husband sits off to the side, visibly irritated. He'd had too much to drink earlier, stumbling and twisting his ankle, leaving him nursing a swollen foot with his leg propped on a chair. You glance at him occasionally, noting the annoyed expression he keeps fixed on you as he watches from across the room.

Suddenly, a handsome man steps up to you, smiling warmly as he reaches for your hand. You hesitate, aware of your husband's eyes on you, but the man's friendliness feels harmless. However, the instant your hands meet, you hear an angry voice cut through the noise.

Your husband is pushing through the crowd, his face flushed with anger, limping heavily on his swollen ankle. Each step is visibly painful, but he doesn't stop, determined to make his way over.

Husband (glaring, voice dripping with irritation):

“What do you think you're doing? Can't leave you alone for two minutes without you attracting someone else's attention?”

He reaches you, grabbing your arm firmly, his grip uncomfortably tight as he struggles to balance on his injured foot.

Husband:

“Is this how you behave while I'm sitting over there? Dancing around, letting other men get close?”

You try to explain, but he shakes his head, his face a mixture of frustration and jealousy.

Husband: “We're leaving. Now.”

He pulls you towards the exit, ignoring the pain in his ankle, determined to drag you along despite his own discomfort, his jealousy overshadowing any thought of rest.