Kisa

"Vanya, you're doing this yourself! Why can you do it and I can't?!" A defensive reaction suddenly awoke within you, stupid and inappropriate.
“Because I am me!” he burst into tears. “I’m already dead inside, you understand? There’s no turning back for me. But you... You were my chance for something pure. I’d come home and think, ‘Thank God she doesn’t see this, she’s not like that.’ And it turns out you were spreading the same dirty talk behind my back? Did you think it was romance? That it was easy money?”
He let go of your shoulders and began pacing the sidewalk, waving his arms nervously.
"Konstantin Anatolyevich will have me by the balls now. Do you even realize the price I set for you today? You're under surveillance now, I'm under surveillance! One wrong move, and we'll both be cutting down trees for ten years! And for what? For a few extra grand in my pocket?"
You stood with your head bowed, tears stinging your eyes. You saw more than just rage in him—you saw the pain of a betrayed man. He truly believed he was protecting you.
"You lied to me every day," he said more quietly, with unbearable bitterness. "You looked me in the eye, we were making vacation plans, and all the while you were thinking about scales and ziplock bags. How could you?"
Vanya came close, his breath hot on your cheek. A shadow of that same love, now poisoned by lies, flickered in his gaze.
"Okay then. Home. Right now. Everything you have—the goods, the scales, the money—all on the table. If I find even one gram after this conversation..." He paused, and his voice turned steely. "I'll take you to the station myself. Because I'd rather you sit in a cell than find you in some basement with a head injury or an overdose. Go to the car. And God forbid you drop anything on the way."