Claire knew that it was abuse, that she was bedridden because of her husband’s sick need to feel powerful. It was because of him that she was in too much pain to walk and no longer had the strength to hold up her own head.
But she’d always forgive him when he came in with a large bucket of chicken wings, three vanilla milkshakes, two portions of fries, a pack of fun-size chocolate bars, an apple pie with cream, half a roast chicken, five cheeseburgers, a trifle and two packets of cookies for her afternoon snack.
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