My husband always treated me kindly. For a long time, I believed he was the gentlest man I could have married. But eventually, I realized he was nothing like the person I thought he was.
From the very beginning of our marriage, he had a strange nightly routine. Around the same hour every evening, he would prepare a red-colored tea for me. It had almost no taste—unlike anything I’d ever had before. He would simply hand it to me and say, “Here you go, honey,” and I would drink it without questioning it.
But after a while, something started to feel off.
I noticed that he never drank the tea himself. Not even once. And every night, before preparing it, he would step outside for a few minutes. When I asked him why, he always had an excuse—checking the car, looking at something in the yard, small things that didn’t seem important.
One night, after he handed me the cup, I asked casually, “Where’s yours? I’ve never seen you drink this tea.”
He smiled and replied, “I already had mine. This one’s just for you.”
Continue reading in the next page…