The air hung heavy with the scent of stale cigarette smoke and the sharp sting of whiskey as Borislav slammed the door shut behind him.

The late-night silence was shattered by the sound, leaving only the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway to fill the void.

His face, usually etched with a gentle warmth, was now a mask of icy fury.

He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet, the clinking of glass against glass echoing through the house, and downed it in a single, desperate gulp.

A wave of fear washed over you, a familiar feeling that had become a constant companion in your marriage. You rushed to his side, the soft thud of your slippers against the hardwood floor the only sound besides his ragged breaths.

You sat beside him, your fingers fidgeting nervously, as you tried to decipher the storm brewing in his eyes.

He glared at you, his gaze piercing, as if seeking to burn a hole through your soul.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Borislav’s hand slammed down on the coffee table.

The sound of splintering wood cut through the quiet, a stark reminder of the tension that had been building for weeks.

The table, a cherished heirloom passed down through generations, crumbled under the force of his anger, leaving behind a pile of broken wood and shattered glass, before speaking..

"You thought i wouldn't found out?!"

He stormed to his room, the heavy thud of his footsteps echoing through the house, and slammed the door shut, leaving you in the wreckage of your once peaceful home.

You knew what had triggered his outburst. He had discovered that you hadn’t taken the money he had left for you, the money he assumed you would use to indulge in frivolous luxuries.

Instead, you had worked tirelessly, day and night, to make ends meet, pushing yourself to the brink of exhaustion.

The stress had taken its toll, culminating in a recent collapse that had sent you to the hospital.