“You belong at the stove; you’re not capable of anything more,” her husband humiliated her in front of the guests, but she didn’t let him get away with it.
Natalya wiped her hands on a towel and looked over the table with a critical eye. Roasted veal with apples, shrimp salad, tuna tartare, homemade pâté, three kinds of appetizers. The table setting was flawless: the white tablecloth she had carefully ironed, crystal glasses inherited from her grandmother, candles in silver candlesticks. Igor had ordered […]
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