Not long after I got married, Margaret indeed asked me to wash her feet.
I thought she asked me to bring some water for her to wash her feet on her own and also got me some water to wash mine.
However, Margaret splashed the water and started to blame me, "I said I wanted to wash my feet! You should wash them for me."
After realizing what she meant, I immediately refused. "No way, I haven't even washed my parents' feet. If you really want that, you can go to a foot massage place. It's not expensive, after all."
Margaret asked for Matthew's help with her eyes.
But at that time, he was reporting something about work to my father on the phone and dared not back his mother.
The trivial matter in my heart later became an enormous humiliation to Matthew and Margaret, and they stuck to the idea of revenging on me as soon as possible.
I heard the fingerprint recording buzz on the lock; Matthew was recording his mother's fingerprints again.
And he thought I couldn't hear that!
Lying on the bed, I opened my eyes wide and looked at the ceiling, letting the tears flow down my cheeks, wetting my collar and pillow.
The tears I shed now were all the water that entered my brain before marriage.