A few seconds later the screams grew louder. Real panic could already be heard in Clara’s voice.

— Tom… oh my God!

I didn’t even move. I just listened quietly.

First there were quick footsteps, then a crash — someone had hit a chair. Tom muttered through his teeth, clearly trying to understand what was happening to his body. But I knew perfectly well what was happening.

In the kitchen cabinet there was a very strong laxative. Once Tom himself had bought it after a bad dinner at a restaurant and then complained for a long time that it was “the worst remedy in the world.”

I caught my husband with the neighbor, but I didn’t raise a scene or my voice — I simply added something to my husband’s glass

The irony of fate.

Judging by the sounds, he had already realized that he might simply not make it to the bathroom in time. The panic in the bedroom grew with every second. Clara screamed, Tom rushed around the room, drawers slammed, something fell to the floor.

— Faster! — she shouted. — Tom, do something!

But it was already too late.

A moment later a heavy, awkward silence fell, and then another scream rang out — this time full of disgust and despair.

I slowly stood up from the armchair and looked at the closed bedroom door.

Sometimes justice comes very quietly.

And very… memorably.