Anxia lost count of how many times she stretched her right hand back and forth. She bent and straightened her arm repeatedly while massaging her upper arm with her left hand.
She did those gymnastics-like movements on the balcony facing the flower garden to calm her heart which was filled with immense aggravation.
Her perverted husband made her hand labor more than she could handle.
'You have to fix me.'
When she heard her husband's words, Anxia knew that whatever her husband asked for would not benefit her.
And it turned out to be true. Once they reached the bathroom, Richard asked her to help the man get released. Richard even made her hand come into contact with that, grip it, and move it back and forth as if she were washing a bottle.
Now Anxia felt her hands hurt as if she had just lifted a heavy object, and she couldn't stop blaming her shameless husband.
"Mommy!"