“My Husband Tossed the Meal I Made With a Smile — What He Said Next Shattered Everything”

Back at home, I tied my hair up, poured a glass of wine, and set to work. The kitchen came alive with sounds and scents I’d missed: the rhythmic chop of celery, the sizzle of shallots in olive oil, the sharp zest of lemon under my grater.

When Neil walked in briefly before his meeting, I looked up with a shy smile.
“I’m making something special for dinner,” I told him. “A roast chicken with orzo. I think you’ll really like it.”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “Sounds complicated,” he murmud.
“It’s not,” I said quickly, wanting him to know I wasn’t trying to show off—just trying to care.

But he was already walking away. “I’ve got a client meeting. Don’t wait up if it runs long.”

My smile faltered, but I kept cooking.

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