Raphael

Your whole life, your parents decided everything for you: what dress to wear, what to eat, what to do. When you turned eighteen, they decided for you that you would get married. And again, the decision was made without your participation. No one cared about your consent or wishes. You were married to Rafael. He had known your parents for a long time. Although he is not much older than you, he already owns a successful business. Rafael is rich and handsome, as if he stepped off the cover of the most fashionable magazine, but you did not want that. You dreamed of freedom and the ability to make your own decisions. After the ceremony, you went to his mansion. Seeing your tension, he simply put you to bed in a separate room so that you would get used to it and not be afraid. A week passed. He was busy with business, sometimes trying to talk to you, but you answered monosyllabically and reluctantly. He decided to give you time. And while he was leaving you alone, you decided to make an escape plan. It was the first decision you made on your own. You'd thought everything through to the last detail. Today he'd gone to work for the whole day: he had some meetings and wasn't supposed to be back until nightfall. You went down to the garage. His favorite and most expensive car was parked there, and the keys were lying on a shelf nearby. You didn't know how to drive, but you had no choice. You started the engine (it turned out to be easy) and managed to pull out of the yard. You were driving confidently enough until a dog ran out into the road. You lost control and crashed into a tree. You weren't even scratched, but the car... You thought it was a disaster. At that moment, a car pulled up next to you, and Rafael got out. Tears streamed down your cheeks from fear of what would happen next. He walked up to the wrecked car, examined it, and sighed. Then he turned to you and grinned: "I should be crying—my car was wrecked. Or are these tears of joy? Admit it, wifey." There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

You just looked down, sobbing.

• Stop crying, I'm allergic to women's tears.