When have I ever laughed at her?
I can't understand Sabina's extreme idea.
"Since you don't want to have dinner, forget it."
I don't want to argue with her, so I turn around and walk out.
Just as I step on my legs, I hear Sabina shouting from behind me, "Who told you that I didn’t want to
have dinner? Can't you come over to feed me? How am I able to get out of bed for dinner?"
Sabina is not a left-hander, so it's not hard for her to have dinner with right hand. In the hospital, she
has always had food by herself.
But she has been injured because of me. I feel guilty, so I bring the food over and feed her.
As soon as I feed her the first bite of the meal, Sabina shouts, "It's so hot. Are you going to kill me?"
I can only blow the next bite for a long time before feeding it into her mouth.
"It's so cool. Do you want to hurt my stomach?"
She's really ... hard to serve.
Actually, I am not good-tempered. I take a deep breath to calm down.
However, Sabina keeps making trouble for me.
"Do you want me to have your saliva by blowing it so hard?!"
"You just let me have rice without any other food?"
"Don't you know that I need to have some light dishes? I'm a patient!"
"This soup is tasteless. How can I drink it?!"
Sabina has tortured me for a long time. It takes me nearly half an hour to feed her half a bowl of rice.
When dining, she feels that the meal turns cool and orders me to go out to warm it up.
I finish feeding her on a meal an hour later.
I don't know if there's anything wrong with her stomach, but mine starts to hurt.
I stand up and prepare to leave with the bowl in my hand. Sabina says coldly, "I don't have to gargle
after dinner? Clean my teeth."
...
My stomach is twitching. I almost lose my temper. If it weren't for Frances, I wouldn't have put up with
her.
But there is no other way. If I want to live with Frances, I have to bear it.
I grit my teeth, get a glass of warm water and brush Sabina's teeth with a toothbrush.
She either asks me to exert more strength or says that I brush her teeth too hard. I really don't know
what to do.
"What are you doing?" Frances asks coldly at the door.
"I am brushing Mom's teeth." I want to smile at him, but I feel too painful to force a smile.
"Let her do it herself. She is able to move freely and take care of herself. If she really finds it hard, I can
hire a nurse. You're my wife. You don't need to do these things."
I am deeply moved by his words.
Sabina looks at Frances in disbelief and says sternly, "You are my son. How can you be partial to her?
She causes me to be like this. Can't I order her around to vent my anger?"
Frances ignores Sabina.
He looks at me and whispers, "Let's go out for dinner."
I seem to be granted a pardon from him and rescued from an abyss of suffering.
After I drop the things, I hold my belly to resist the desire to vomit, bend down and walk out.
Frances notices something wrong with me and asks with worry, "How you doing?"
I say reluctantly, "I just get some pains in my belly. Have you had dinner? I'll go and heat up the meal."
Frances glances at the cool food on the table and Sabina's bowl. He pushes me onto the sofa and says
in a low voice, "Have a rest. I'll do it."
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