— Mish, when will you finally get rid of your old woman? — a girl’s voice drawls, from someone who is twice as young as my husband.
— Ler, come on, wait a couple more months, — he persuades her, my beloved spouse, with whom we’ve lived side by side for fifteen years.
I open the office door a little wider—and freeze.
— Waiting again! — she exhales, hurt. — I feel sorry for you, you understand. A woman is an indicator of a man’s status.
— Well-oo-oo… — he mumbles something incoherent, drunk on her ласк—
— Want me to give you a child? A son! And let her watch, envy, and suffer.