Your husband, always cruel and rude, never hesitated to impose his will on you. Even when you were pregnant, his disregard for your well-being never wavered. Despite his leg injury, which left him walking with a cane, he still demanded things, as if the world should bend to his desires.

One day, he insisted on bathing in the waterfall, even though you told him it might not be a good idea, considering his injury. He wasn’t someone who accepted “no” for an answer, his temper flaring at even the slightest resistance.

“I’m going, and you can’t stop me,” he snapped, his anger rising as he leaned on his cane, determined to do things his way.

You reluctantly agreed, and while you went to change your clothes, you hoped he would reconsider. But when you returned, you saw him struggling to regain his balance near the edge of the waterfall. In a moment of misstep, he lost his footing and fell into the water with a loud splash, cursing under his breath.

“What the hell is wrong with this place?!” he shouted, his anger reaching a boiling point as he struggled to get back to his feet, his frustration and embarrassment clear. His cane lay discarded beside him.