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Rafael anxiously continued, “Do all girls have such bad cramps during their periods? Poor Jenna. Do you know any remedies? Should I get her medicine? Maybe red sugar water? A heating pad?”
He was terrified of causing Jenna any discomfort.
Even during my pregnancy, Rafael had never shown me this level of concern.
I couldn’t help but find our years of love utterly laughable. “Can‘ t you just Google it?”
With that, I hung up and ignored him.
The next morning, Rafael called me again, his tone angry. “Lily, you’ve grown bold! How dare you hang up on me?”
“I’m giving you a chance now. Come over and cook for Jenna, and I’ll forgive you.”
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“Oh, and Jenna loves your sweet–and–sour spare ribs. Make sure to bring that.”
Hearing those words, a sharp pain pierced my heart.
I finally understood why, for a time, Rafael had suddenly loved the meals I brought him–especially the sweet–and–sour spare
ribs.
I had naively thought he liked them. I had even practiced tirelessly, my hands became calloused and burned by splattering oil.
It turned out Jenna was the one who loved
them, and he only made me cook because
of her.
Wiping the tears from the corners of my eyes, I asked, “Rafael, any chef could cook better than me. Why does it have to be
me?”
He ordered firmly, “Jenna said she only wants your cooking. You will come today.”
Then he hung up.
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I took the divorce papers with me and went to Jenna’s place. It was time to end this farce with Rafael.
Jenna greeted me with an apologetic tone, though her words were anything but.
“Sorry, Lily. I just had a sudden craving for
your sweet–and–sour pork ribs. But you‘ re pregnant, and cooking smoke isn’t good for the baby. Yet Sir Rafael insisted on having you come to make them for me.”
Her voice was full of the favoritism Rafael showered on her, while I felt like nothing more than their maid.
Ignoring Jenna, I placed the papers in front of Rafael. “Sign this, and I‘ ll cook.”
Without even glancing at the document, Rafael signed it.
I asked, “Aren’t you afraid this might be a divorce agreement?”
He sneered, “So what if it is? Nothing is more important than Jenna’s happiness.
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Besides, you‘ re pregnant. You wouldn’t dare divorce me. Who else would want you?”
His dismissive attitude spoke volumes. I
said nothing more and went to the kitchen to cook.
This would be the last meal that I would ever made for Rafael.
Back then, he loved my cooking. But at some point, he began to despise it.
From the kitchen, I could hear Rafael and Jenna’s laughter in the living room, their joy cutting into me like shards of glass.
When I finished cooking, my weakened body almost collapsed from exhaustion.
Instead of showing any concern, Rafael scolded me. “You‘ re fainting from just making a meal? Being pregnant has made you so delicate.”
“Jenna still goes to work even when she’s on her period, and she doesn’t complain.
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You sit at home all day–how can you say you work harder than her?”
No matter how much I sacrificed, in Rafael’s eyes, only Jenna mattered.
Jenna approached to support me. Her voice was syrupy sweet as she spoke. “Lily, thank you for your hard work. Your clothes. got dirty. Let me take you to the bedroom. to change.”
She led me to her room, where the floor
was littered with clothes and condoms.
Flushing, Jenna feigned embarrassment and explained, “Oh, my boyfriend is just too much to handle.”
Then, as if it were an afterthought, she asked with a sly smile, “Lily, is Sir Rafael just as passionate with you?”
My expression turned icy. It was clear why Jenna had brought me here–to make me see this.
I had always thought Rafael’s reluctance.
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was due to work stress. But now I knew the
truth.
He simply didn’t want me.
Every time I approached him, he would push me away with disdain, calling me disgusting.
