Chapter 3
They were thanking me out loud, but secretly they were loving the attention.
They were all cozy inside the car with the heater blasting, while I stood outside solo, shivering in the icy wind.
The contrast could not have been sharper.
“Yvonne, do you even remember who your husband is?”
That one line made her scowl instantly. “Even if you are my husband, you can’t just throw a tantrum!”
“I’m not making you walk home. I’m just asking you to take a cab. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?”
“Charles, when are you ever going to lighten up?”
Then, with a dramatic “bang,” she slammed the car door and started the car engine.
“Honestly, if you’re going to waste time arguing with me, you might as well just take a cab.”
“Don’t make us miss dinner!”
Yvonne’s parents immediately reminded me when they heard the word dinner.
“Charles, remember to buy some fresh ingredients on your way back.”
“The eggs back home might be expired, don’t forget some new ones.”
“And Dad hasn’t been feeling well lately. Try to keep it light for dinner.”
They seemed to have forgotten that I had been kicked out of the car and still had no way to get home.
Yet they shamelessly treated me like a servant, bossing me around.
Even Evan could not resist teasing me. “Charles, that’s impressive. You can actually cook!”
Yvonne nodded, not denying it.
Evan grinned at me. “Then I’d like to have the classic meatballs. That shouldn’t be too hard, right?”
He closed the car window with a smirk.
Yvonne did not even glance at me before flooring the gas and driving off. Not long after, Yvonne called me.
However, it was not a call of regret, or concern for my safety. It was another command.
“You still haven’t called a cab? What are you waiting for?”
“Also, Evan gets carsick. I can’t drive fast, so once you get in a car, make sure the driver speeds up a little. Go home and get the dinner ready. We’re exhausted from the long drive. Get your work done!”
I had been a pampered rich kid.
I only learned how to cook until I started dating Yvonne.
We always had a housekeeper.
However, Yvonne and her parents wanted me to cook personally. They said that was the only way to prove my love.
I complained before, but Yvonne always shut me down.
“My parents worked hard all their lives. Let them enjoy a little comfort. Just be nice to them.”
A single sentence turned my so-called duty as a son-in-law into a prison for three years.
It was always my job to cook the New Year’s dinner. Yvonne never even got a chance to help.
Her mother would tell me that a man in the kitchen is all about showing love and immediately dragged her out of the kitchen.
In the eyes of Yvonne, her parents, and even her father, I was not a husband or son-in-law. I was just their personal servant.
As I heard her commands, any ounce of love I clung to vanished in a heartbeat.
It hit me like a truck.
If she no longer cared for me, why the heck was I ringing in the New Year with this wench? Was I setting myself up for a jinxed year ahead?
I immediately texted my lawyer to draw up the divorce papers.
I watched the car speed away and chuckled.
Then I grabbed my phone and dialed 911, “I need to report a crime. My wife deliberately left me stranded on the highway.”
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