I was lying in bed with a high fever, but my husband was too lazy to go get medicine: and when he started yelling at me because dinner wasn’t ready, my patience finally snapped…

I was in bed with nearly 102°F fever. My whole body ached, every bone felt foreign. My head was pounding so badly it hurt to even open my eyes. There wasn’t a single pill in the house, and with great effort I asked my husband to go to the pharmacy.

— Go yourself, — he said irritably. — Why are you whining? A bit of fever won’t kill you.

I closed my eyes and pressed a cold compress to my forehead. It hurt even to get out of bed. I endured it, hoping the fever would pass on its own.

Suddenly my husband walked into the room.

— What? You didn’t cook anything all day? — his voice was demanding and harsh.

— No, I have a fever, it’s hard for me to even stand up, — I answered quietly.

— And what about me coming home hungry from work? Don’t you want to feed me?

— If you go to the pharmacy to get medicine, I’ll be able to get up and make dinner, — I tried to explain.

— I told you I’m tired! — he raised his voice. — You’re a woman, and it’s your duty to cook for me. And look at this mess. My mother always managed everything, even when she was sick. But you modern women have all become so weak…

His words cut into my heart. On one side the fever, making me want to just close my eyes and disappear, on the other the humiliation coming from my own husband.

I didn’t answer him anymore. I just picked up my phone and, with trembling hands, dialed my mother’s number. When I heard her voice, I couldn’t hold back — the tears rolled down my cheeks.

— Mom, please come quickly… I have 39°C fever, I feel really bad. Bring some fever medicine and take me away from here, — I whispered. — And one more thing… call our lawyer. Let him prepare the divorce papers.

On the other end there was silence, then my mother said firmly:

— My daughter, stay strong. I’m already on my way. No one has the right to treat you like this.

At that moment my husband started grumbling again that I was “overdramatizing everything,” but his words no longer mattered. I stared at the ceiling and, for the first time in a long while, felt relief.

Yes, the future won’t be easy: divorce, changes, a new life. But most importantly — I finally stopped tolerating humiliation.