“Look at her—does she look like a woman in her early thirties?” Mike gave me a disgusted look. “Anyone who doesn’t know her age would think she’s a forty- or fifty-year-old housewife. She’s never even bothered to buy herself a single nice piece of clothing.”
“Just looking at her shortens your life. Living every day with such an ugly woman would drive any man crazy. You wouldn’t even dare take her out to eat. At the kindergarten, people always mistake her for the child’s grandmother.”
Stella’s eyes turned red. “Mike, are you even human?”
“Why doesn’t she dress up? Does she even have time? She wakes up early and works late every day, taking care of the child and me. Whenever she has a bit of free time, she goes out to do odd jobs to earn money. Look at her hands—do they look like the hands of a normal woman? They’re all calloused. She’s your wife and you don’t even feel sorry for her. Instead, you insult her. Where’s your conscience?”
Stella was truly angry now. She went on, “You say she doesn’t buy clothes—do you know why? Because she’s trying to save money!”