Chapter 1

I've cooked for my husband ninety-nine days in a row. Today I poured a whole bag of salt into the pork rib soup.

Barely two minutes after I dropped it off, his message came in:

【Today's soup tastes great. Thank you, sweetheart.】

Scroll up through the chat log and it's all the same, copy-pasted and hollow.

Same as always, I asked him:

【How were the ribs today?】

It took him a while to answer:

【Really good. A little sweet, that's all.】

Half an hour later, his secretary Pamela Sullivan updated her social media feed.

【Today's soup was so salty it went bitter. Good thing someone promised to take me for sushi tomorrow to make up for it.】

I scrolled through every post.

The meals I got up at five in the morning to make, one by one, had all become her personal lunch, clocked in on schedule every single day.

I messaged my husband:

【Tomorrow's our wedding anniversary. I won't bring lunch. Let's go out for it at noon instead?】

He replied instantly:

【Can't. There's a work thing tomorrow.】

Fine. A divorce on our anniversary has a certain meaning to it too, doesn't it?

1

"Did you actually drink today's soup?"

He bent to change his shoes, tone unchanged. "Of course. Why the sudden question?"

I watched him quietly. "I put a whole bag of salt in those ribs."

He gave a small laugh, took my hand, and frowned when he saw the cut on my index finger.

"How did you cut yourself again?"

"Let the housekeeper handle it next time. These hands aren't meant to soak in a kitchen every day."

He took out a bandage and bent his head to wrap it for me.

His phone rang, and Pamela's voice came through the speaker.

"Mr. Matthews, still noon tomorrow?"

"I dug out that off-white dress. You said the sushi place has dim lighting, so light colors look good."

Jeffrey Matthews cut the call off. "It's a company dinner. She's booking the table, that's all. Don't read into it."

"We've been married six years. Don't hold things against a young girl, all right?"

"It's her birthday tomorrow, and the whole department will be there."

I nodded. "Then what about our anniversary tomorrow?"

"Cordelia Swanson, we have an anniversary every year. This is her first birthday in this city."

Seeing that I stayed silent,

Jeffrey looked relieved.

"I already bought your gift, it's in the car. I'll bring it up in the morning. The pearl earrings you like."

He bent down again and kissed my forehead.

"I made sure to get pure gold posts. Hypoallergenic."

I took a deep breath.

"Jeffrey, those ninety-nine lunches, did you eat them?"

He froze for a moment.

"I ate them. Why?"

"Did Pamela say something to you?"

"She talks too fast, don't mind her."

"She runs projects with me and skips meals a lot."

"A few times I was stuck in meetings and couldn't eat, so I gave the food to her."

Jeffrey looked at me, his smile dimming a little.

"Cordelia, it's just a meal. Does it really matter that much who ends up eating it?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid you'd let your mind run wild."

"So every day you just copied and pasted 'delicious'?"

His tone stayed just as gentle.

"If I didn't reply, you'd worry I hadn't eaten on time."

His phone chimed again.

Pamela had sent a voice message.

"Mr. Matthews, has your wife gotten the wrong idea?"

"Don't give the food to me anymore. I'll just grab something on my own."

Jeffrey replied at once.

"Don't be silly. No one's saying you can't eat it."

He set his phone down, as if he'd already settled the whole thing for us.

"Pam already backed off on her own. This ends here."

I looked at him. Still so sure he was right.

Jeffrey pulled me into his arms.

"My wife's the most understanding."

I leaned against his chest and listened to that familiar heartbeat.

"There's a document. Could you sign it?"

"What document?"

"You'll find out when the time comes."

I stepped back out of his arms, went into the room, and signed my name on the divorce papers.